Phantom
by PinkFalcon
Summary: [AU] Misty's Training to be a Master in a large, ancient Stadium, but it isn't easy. First the Battle Ghost gets its greedy hands on her Totodile, and now her old friend Rudi is trying to court her. But the Ghost doesn't like that...PokéShippy.
1. Christine

**Phantom**

**X **

**Act i Stage i  
**

_Christine_

_H__er flashlight was going out._

Misty stopped before the door she was about to enter and banged the cheap plastic device against her palm. It blinked once, feebly, before sputtering out completely. She banged it again, harder, and grunted when pain shot through her forearm. Dammit, she did not need this now! Not when she was so close! She beat it against the thick stone wall as hard as she dared, then flipped it over and tugged at its batteries, switching them with each other in an attempt to wring the last ounce of life from them. When a frail yellow ring appeared on the floor before her she wasted no time in tugging open the thick wooden door and slipping inside, closing it softly behind her. She only had a few seconds now to find a light switch...

The beam of light flickered briefly over row upon row of plain metal cages before she aimed it at the wall beside the door, roving up and down the grey stone in vain. She tried the other wall. Nothing. Frowning, Misty took a step into the room and peered up at the ceiling. Had they even installed electricity in here? What was she going to do if they hadn't? She couldn't find her Totodile in complete darkness!

A flicker of movement in the rafters caught her eye and she swung the beam toward it, unconsciously backing up until the rough wood of the door scratched at the thick black jacket on her back. Her eyes tried unsuccessfully to pierce the gloom; her flashlight just wasn't strong enough. There was nothing there, as far as she could tell. Had she imagined it? Or was a Flying-Type out of its cage? She groped automatically for the PokéBelt slung loosely around her waist, but her fingers met only air. She'd left it in her dorm to avoid questions if someone caught her—like Gary Oak, the Master of Security in the Stadium. He would have demanded to know exactly what had been so important as to get her out of bed after midnight fully dressed and with a flashlight. The absence of her 'Belt would help stave off a few unwanted inquiries—she'd never been one for those illegal midnight Battles—but she'd never felt so naked.

Her flashlight flickered dangerously, reminding her that she was on borrowed time as it was. Misty whipped it against her palm until it reluctantly spit out a few more seconds of radiance. Eyes flashed anxiously around the large room; a thin string dangling from a rafter a few feet in front of her caught her attention, where she thought she'd seen something move. She stared at it, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. It was waving slowly, as if someone had disturbed it recently.

Just then her flashlight went out completely.

Misty cursed and banged it against her palm uselessly. Nothing. She fixed her eyes on the spot where she'd seen the string and forced herself to walk to it, her hands out in front of her to catch it in the dark. The hair on the back of her neck and arms was stiff with fear. She felt as if she was being watched.

Nonsense, she scolded herself, jumping when her shoe caught the corner of an empty cage with a clang. Of course she was being watched. The room was filled with Pokémon, and her blind shuffling had probably woken most of them up by now. They could probably see better in the dark than she could.

Her forearm brushed against something wispy and she almost fell over another discarded cage in fear before she realized it was the string she had been searching for and not a spider web. She bereted herself for being stupid and reached for the string again, her arms brushing against it a few times before she could grab hold of it. After a quick yank and a familiar clink she found herself blinking in the brilliant light spilling from the bare bulb just a few feet above her, dangling from the low overhead beams. The room's ceiling was unfinished and cloaked eerily in dusty shadow.

The caged Pokémon did not appreciate the sudden light. All around her she could hear them rustling, resettling feathers and fur as they glared at her with sleepy eyes. Misty blinked away the last of the spots from her vision and peered around herself anxiously, searching for a hint of blue. She was almost certain he was in this particular containment room. The headMasters had said Number Seven, and she'd confirmed the number on the door before coming inside.

A deep anger stirred within her at the memory of what else the headMasters had said. "Inadequate," they'd called him. "Unfit for Battle." And having seen him fight only once! Misty hadn't had more than a week to work with him! How could they even _consider_ selling him without giving her a chance to Train him correctly first?

An uneasy glance confirmed one of the nastier rumors she'd heard about containment rooms: while most of the Pokémon were busy curling up with their backs to her, a few weren't moving at all. Misty shuddered and tried her best not to look at them. It was no secret that some Pokémon couldn't be sold and lived out their lives in these cages instead. But how often were they checked? Weren't they fed, watered, and exercized every day? Surely they wouldn't allow dead Pokémon to just lie around, waiting for the Battle Ghost to find them.

The Battle Ghost. Right. Misty couldn't help but smile at such a childish story. That the bloodthirsty Battle Ghost would pick apart neglected Pokémon was a common story, but one used to make some of the younger Trainees care properly for their charges, not one used seriously. Besides, the Battle Ghost was said to eat the Pokémon he found—after murdering them in horrific, painful ways, of course. Even if he were real, he'd want nothing to do with decaying corpses. In any case, the headMasters shouldn't be keeping the Pokémon here at all. They needed to Battle and Train to stay in shape; if some couldn't be sold, couldn't they be given to the younger Trainers as pets instead? The weaker, more timid ones would make nice bedside companions.

A familiar flash of blue pebbled skin caught her eye suddenly, and Misty picked her way around the haphazardly stacked cages to kneel before a small one on the floor. Her Totodile was inside, sleeping restlessly in a tight ball, his bruised tail curled up under his snout. Misty grasped the bars of the cage tightly. She fought to control herself as her aquamarine eyes traveled over his bruised and mottled skin. They hadn't even healed him! What the hell were they _thinking_? Her hands grabbed automatically for her PokéGear, but she had left it behind as well. Dammit, he needed to see a Healer right away!

"Totodile?" she cooed softly, her voice thick with anger. "Totodile, can you hear me? Are you awake?" The Pokémon blinked wearily and looked at her through blurred eyes. Misty reached through the bars to gently stroke an unbruised patch on his forehead. "Hey, pal, I'm here to get you out. Are you okay? Can you understand me?" He wagged the tip of his tail sleepily. Had they drugged him as well? "Hang in there, buddy, I'm not leaving here without you..."

Her initial plan had been to make sure he was okay—perhaps even hide his cage if the headMasters had made him look good enough to be sold quickly—but now she knew she had to get him out of here. Now. Tonight. He couldn't wait until morning—may not even make it that long. Trembling fingers found a thick padlock securing the cage door to a bar and she cursed, tugging on it uselessly. Where did the headMasters keep their keys...?

In their office, no doubt, safely out of reach of students and illegal peddlers, but it wouldn't hurt to search the room anyway; perhaps she could find something that could break the lock, or pick it open. She searched the room with her eyes, but she was distracted by dozens of frail gazes that matched her Totodile's. She peered more closely at the Pokémon and realized that they looked pale and weak. They trembled in their cages; the floor was dirty, the bottoms of the enclosures obviously unkempt; the rafters were home to dozens of glistening spider webs. Misty shivered when she thought of spiders and muttered the worst word she knew. There was nothing in here but dirty cages and unhealthy Pokémon. She couldn't carry the whole damn cage all the way up to her dormitory! Then again...no, the goddam headMasters had bolted it to the floor. What was she supposed to do now? And what about the rest of the Pokémon? Could she just leave them all here, just turn her back on them when they were all so obviously miserable?

Something metal clinked softly on the floor just behind her, so close that she whirled around on the balls of her feet and had to grab the nearest cage to keep from falling over. There was nothing there. Her heart was beating madly. Had it been a Pokémon's claws she'd heard? Or was she just going insane? She shook her head irritably and started to turn back to her Totodile, but something shiny on the floor caught her eye. A small silver key lay glistening beside her feet.

Misty stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded, then lurched all the way around, peering nervously into the darkness that seemed to swallow up the light pouring from the single bulb. That key had _not_ been there before. "Is someone there?" she demanded, her voice a little weaker than she liked. She cleared it and tried again. "Is someone hiding from me? Why? Come out!" Her voice reverberated off the thick stone walls and awakened a few more Pokémon, who blinked stupidly at her and rearranged themselves in their cages. Misty looked to the ceiling impulsively. The string from the light was swaying again.

Her thoughts turned immediately to the Battle Ghost, the Phantom of the Stadium, and she shivered at the memory of the old stories that had thrilled her as a child. But the Phantom was evil, an apparition who preyed on the weak Pokémon of the stadium and took pleasure in frightening those people who found themselves alone in the corridors at night. He wasn't real, and he had certainly not left her a key to free her Pokémon. It probably wasn't even the right one, and that string had probably just caught on some draft. She decided to prove that to herself and grabbed the key up off the floor. The fact that it was warm did not deter her. She glared at the old padlock and stuffed the key inside, then twisted. It turned easily, and the lock popped open with a cheerful click. A chill slid down Misty's spine as she stared at it.

A soft scuff. This time she _knew_ there was something behind her.

Her heartbeat quickened until the pounding in her ears drowned out the sounds of the Pokémon in the room. She pulled her feet beneath her and balanced stiffly in a crouched position, her eyes frozen to the key, her fingers trembling on the lock. She concentrated on the space behind her and—there it was again, that _clacking_ sound, oddly familiar yet eerily strange. What could it be? If she turned around, would she see anything? Or was someone trying to play an elaborate prank on her? But who knew she was down here? She hadn't even told Brock.

She swallowed and whirled around on the balls of her feet quickly in an attempt to catch whatever it was in the act, but all she managed to catch was a glimpse of something long and hairy pulling itself up into the darkness of the rafters on a shimmering string. This time when Misty froze it was in terror. She recognized that long and hairy something. It was yellow and purple and the string was sticky. Misty felt her breath catch in her throat.

An Ariados was out of its cage.

As if in confirmation of her thoughts, Misty heard a soft hissing sound almost directly above her. She dove as quickly as she could, but a cold, sticky thread managed to catch her on the denim around her ankle, and she quickly doubled over to pick it off. She suppressed wild shudders at the thought of what that string was attached to, and could feel the cold sweat beading on her forehead. She _hated_ bugs—loathed anything with more than four legs—and spiders were the absolute worst. Their hairy, spindly legs, their blank, multifaceted eyes, their dripping pincers...

And it didn't calm her when she remembered that Ariados were poisonous.

The web finally came free of her jeans, but it now refused to leave her hand. Misty shook it violently and picked at it with the edge of her flashlight, but it clung to her skin with a warm, wet stubbornness. A violent shudder rolled through her at the sensation, and she resisted the urge to vomit. When she looked up she could see nothing beyond the fierce glare of the lightbulb; the rafters around it were veiled in impenetrable shadow. But there was that horrible hissing again...

This time the web struck her squarely in the chest. Misty squealed and swiped violently at it, lost her balance and fell over with a crash, her head striking an occupied cage hard. Its occupant screeched and she scrambled away on all fours, then jerked suddenly to a stop when her shirt refused to follow her. She could feel the web hardening as it cooled the skin on her arm.

The web tugged back suddenly; another hiss and a third strand caught her on her shoulder. Misty shuddered, dizzy and nauseous, and forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat. Three-and-a-half foot spider or no, she could _beat_ this thing, dammit.

She carefully balanced her weight on her elbows and lifted the blank flashlight to the newest strand, still glittering silver in the light; the other two had hardened into a creamy white. Sticking it to the base of the web, as close as she could get it to her chest, she quickly rolled it up, trying not to touch it with her fingers. It worked. The web clung to the plastic and released her shirt, then was immediately jerked out of her grasp as the Ariados reeled in its prey. She beat at the other strings while it was occupied, but while the webs were no longer sticky, they were also too strong to snap. Sweating heavily, shivering violently, trying not to think of what those pincers could do to her if she didn't get away, Misty flicked open her tiny belt knife and sawed the web from first her skin, then her shirt. She left it dangling uselessly as she surged to her feet and raced toward the door.

Her hand was on the doorknob when she remembered her Totodile. She couldn't just _leave_ him here!

She spun around and glared at the pool of discarded webbing on the ground, then traced a line up into the dark rafters, where the light prevented her from making anything out clearly. But she knew it was up there, watching her. Somewhere. Ariados were very aggressive, and a few had even been known to slay humans for food. She'd been taught that, if neglected or improperly Trained, Ariados preferred their own Trainers to the Pokémon, animals, and insects that they normally preyed on.

She quickly checked her person for anything she could use against the arachnid. She had her belt knife in her hand, her regular black leather belt around her waist, a stretched and faded purple hair tie around her wrist, and some crumpled bills and change in her pocket. And a receipt. She stared at the useless creased paper through unfocused eyes. Dammit! Of all the times to leave her dorm without her PokéBelt...

A soft clicking drew her attention back to the room before her, and Misty looked up to see the Ariados stretching its long legs and touching the ground beside the pool of webbing on the floor. It wasn't even halfway across the room, a mere ten feet or so away from her. She froze, unable to tear her eyes away from the huge Pokémon before her. The spines on its back reached up above her navel. She had a dull blade as long as her pinky. She doubted it could even pierce that thing's hairy hide.

The Ariados hissed again, but instead of jetting a line of web it crouched and quickly heightened its hiss into a screech. Misty fell to her knees at the horrible grinding sound, her hand pressed tightly to her ears and her eyes ground shut in pain. She was vaguely aware of the room around her as its occupant Pokémon protested the Attack furiously. The intensity of the Screech lessened as the Bug cut off the Attack, but the sound continued to reverberate painfully off the walls, pinning Misty to the ground. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think—all she could do was focus on that hideous sound as it pierced the very folds of her brain.

Before she knew it she was being shoved roughly back against the door as something hard and sharp pierced her side. The sudden assault jolted her out of her stupor and she cried out, her head and spine striking the hard wood painfully. The Ariados was on top of her now—she could feel its disgustingly hairy legs brushing against her bare face and hands, its clacking mandibles dripping burning saliva on the base of her neck, its poison-tipped spine digging into her side...

And it was so ungodly _heavy_...

And then, as suddenly as it had struck her, the weight was gone. Misty frowned, slumped against the door, her side and neck burning terribly as she watched the hissing, spitting Ariados being pulled off of her by a pair of tanned hands wrapped in dark fingerless gloves...

Her vision was blurring. She couldn't remember why she was slouched so painfully between the stone floor and the hard, unrelenting door. She tried pulling herself up, but as soon as her weight left her elbows a flood of dizziness whirled through her head and she almost fell over, fighting back a sudden surge of bile in her throat. Somewhere before her the Ariados was hissing angrily, but the rest of the room was strangely silent. Weren't there Pokémon or something in here...?

Her neck ached, but her right side was positively _throbbing_. She looked down at it in confusion only to discover that her eyes weren't focusing; all she could see was a mass of red and black and grey. Grey was easy, that was the stone floor, and the black was her jacket, but she hadn't worn anything red today...

There was a blinding flash of light that made her head reel and the hissing stopped abruptly. Someone said something in a soft male voice. Misty frowned and wondered briefly if she'd been caught when a great wave of nausea rolled unexpectedly through her and she barely had time to turn her head to the side before she retched up her dinner. The pain in her side intensified as she heaved, and her head rolled. She remembered her lessons on Ariados then, and the chapter in her book on how quickly a full-grown Ariados's poison could race through an average man's bloodstream. If she were six feet tall and a hundred and sixty-five pounds and had sustained a full injection she could die in an hour.

Well she certainly wasn't six feet tall, and she was nowhere near a hundred and sixty-five pounds, and that spine had caught her pretty good...

This time the wave of nausea that swept through her system was not from the pain in her wound.

"Pika pikachu pika pi?"

Misty looked up from her mess and directly into the worried chocolate eyes of a Pikachu. What? Where...the hands...

"Is she all right?" Misty tried looking beyond the Pikachu, but her eyes wouldn't focus much further than the blackened tips of its long ears. She felt her head grow heavy and she wearily leaned it back against the door, her breathing haggard. A dark shape was approaching. It was so fuzzy she could scarcely differentiate it from the silent rows of cages behind it. What was wrong with her eyes? And why was her entire right side suddenly numb? Had the poison really spread that quickly?

"Chu pikachu, Pikapi. Pi pika kachu."

"You're right. And she won't make it up the stairs if we carry her. Come on, we'll use the roof...You go get an antidote."

"Pi, Pikapi."

She felt a brush of soft fur as the Pikachu leapt over her, and then her vision was filled by the blurry outline of an arm as warm, rough fingers wiped the sweat from her eyes. She couldn't catch her breath now; it was if the air was too thick to enter her lungs. She tried lifting her head to look down at her side—was it turning purplish-yellow yet? She wouldn't make it if it was purplish-yellow already—but her neck couldn't support it. She tried again, and managed to gain a few inches before a warm hand wrapped around the back of her head and callused fingers gently pushed her forehead down again. "Easy, now," the male voice said. Someone shifted into her view, blocking out a large chunk of light, and she struggled to see who it was. She didn't recognize the voice. It was too gravelly for Brock...

She struggled to sit up, to see him better, to find out if he worked for Gary. "Who...in trouble..." She was having trouble remembering the words long enough to form them with her oddly unresponsive mouth.

"Shh. Don't move. I'll take care of you."

The rest of his words blended together as Misty's mind lost its grip on consciousness and slipped smoothly into oblivion.

**X**

**AN . **A cleaner, better-maintained version of this fanfic can be found at LiveJournal in the link provided in my bio (links aren't allowed in stories). Any future revisions/corrections will be posted there instead of here.


	2. Madame Gíry

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act i Stage ii**

_Madame Giry_

_Misty's aching head roused her from sleep more than once . . ._

The first time was only for a few seconds, and later Misty wondered if her delusional dreams had merely made her believe she'd woken up when she hadn't. Her head throbbed with each racing heartbeat and the pain in her side was so unbearable her brain was refusing to register that half of her body anymore. She tried sitting up, but her neck wouldn't support her head and she could only manage to roll it to one side. And what she saw in the dim light surprised her.

There was a man sleeping next to her—no, that wasn't right. A boy about her age—eighteen, perhaps nineteen, twenty at the most—was curled up near the edge of her blankets, dark-haired head snuggled against a black-gloved hand. His knuckles caught the edge of a pair of dark sunglasses and forced them askew on his head, revealing a tanned, slightly scruffy face and eyelids flickering gently in deep slumber. Misty stared at him in confusion. Her brain refused to cooperate. Why was he here? Who was he? And why was he sleeping in a dark room in sunglasses?

The questions overworked her brain and she felt it dimming again, her eyelids fluttering shut as she turned back, groaning. She didn't know how long she slept before she swam up to consciousness once again.

This time she woke up to a warm hand on her neck. It took her a second to realize it was her own. It was resting on rough gauze wrapped—she followed it with fingers trembling in weakness—all the way around her neck a few times and over her shoulder, running under her arm. The movement made her head swim and she held it tightly, squeezing her eyes shut and waiting for the dizziness to subside. The sound of laughter made her realize she wasn't alone.

A bleary memory stirred in the depths of her mind and she turned her head to the side, but there was no one there. Was there supposed to be? She frowned in confusion and, wincing, struggled to lift herself up with her elbows. The room she was in was dark and a little chilly, but thick wool blankets poured from her shoulders as she rose and she realized someone had piled them there to sweat off a fever. Had she been feverish? Had she imagined that—what had it been? A boy?

No. No, she knew she hadn't imagined him because as she pulled herself to a half-sitting position she saw him crouched down at the foot of her—futon? Was that what she was on?—playing with something in his arms. He was turned away from her, and all Misty could see was a head of messy black hair, a dark jacket, and dark blue jeans. He was hard to make out in the soft glow coming from—the floorboards? She looked down. Between cracks in the wooden floor she could see the tops of caged Pokémon. She gasped when she saw one occupied by the Ariados she had fought.

The boy heard her and turned suddenly, a grin still on his face and a heavily bandaged Totodile—her Totodile!—laughing in his arms, but she saw neither. Her gaze focused immediately on his eyes, though it flickered briefly over the sunglasses perched above his bangs. His eyes...they were wrong. Something was horribly wrong with them. Stories...she had heard horror stories of eyes like those, of demons and angels and Pokémon and humans and...and now he was frowning at her, the smile gone. So were the eyes, hidden once again behind dark glasses, a finger resting on the corner were he had pushed them down.

This time Misty fainted. It was much longer before she awoke.

When she did she sat up immediately, then held her head as a wave of ache smashed through it. Her mind swam with visions of demons and sunglasses and spiders...she couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a moment. But a single thought managed to burst through the clogged sea of memories and she quickly looked around in fright. Where was that dark-haired boy? Was he near? Was she dead?

But this large, many-bedded room's walls were lush green wallpaper, not cold grey stone, and beneath her was a warm, feathery bed, not a haggard futon and piles of blankets. She frowned and surveyed the rest of the room. Dark wooden dressers and tables lined the walls; thriving flowers of every kind and color imaginable dotted vases, corner shelves, mirror frames, and hanging pictures; rosy pink washing bowls, pitchers, and plates littered the dresser tops and fluffy light pink towels piled atop one another in any space left. A lavish maroon border, edged a rich gold and run through by an elegant green vine, ran along the walls against the ceiling and complimented the thick down comforter tucked all around Misty's sore form. Misty recognized this room. It was Delia Ketchum's hospital-dorm, a makeshift emergency room for any humans who were injured during Training. Four large empty beds ran along one wall, three dressers with mirrors along the other. She was in the last bed. Delia was nowhere in sight.

But how had she gotten here? Had someone found her? Had that strange boy brought her here? Why? She looked down at herself, peeling away the sheets and blankets until she got to her side. Her jacket was gone, but her shirt was still there, though clearly bloodstained and torn where the Ariados's spine and pierced her. Misty was surprised by the size of the dry, crackly orangish stain on her light blue shirt, and by the ripped portion. The entire bottom half of her shirt was in tatters.

Beneath it lay soft, fresh linen bandages, not rough gauze like before, and the same wrapped professionally around her neck. Misty poked at the wound tenderly and gasped in surprise as a fierce pain shot all through her torso. She bit back stinging tears and bowed her head as the pain throbbed throughout her body for a few agonizing moments before slowly lapping away, leaving her breathless and sweaty. She stared at the seemingly harmless linen. She wouldn't be making _that_ mistake again!

But where was Delia? Misty pulled herself up the rest of the way and looked around, stretching her feet out underneath the heavy comforter—and met a warm weight with her knees. Misty looked down sharply. There was a Pikachu curled up beside her right leg, just above her knee.

Her nudge had woken it up, and it stretched languidly and yawned, arching its back and ruffling its bright yellow fur in a shiver that rolled from the tips of its ears to its long, ropey tail. Then it sat like a cat might and looked up sleepily at her, eyes widening when it saw her awake and sitting up, staring at it in wonder and confusion. She recognized those chocolate eyes...

"Pikachupi!" it exclaimed suddenly, leaping to all fours and wading through the mound of comforter towards her happily. "Pi pikachu pi! Pikachu pikachu!"

Misty couldn't help but smile at its obvious relief, and reached out a hand to stroke its soft head as it perched high on her thigh. "And who are you?" she asked, a strained smile on her face. Her head still ached. "One of Delia's helpers?"

"Chu," it shook its head. "Pika pi Pikapi. Pika pikachu pika pi?" It pointed at her wounds. Misty recognized the phrase and tone, but she still had no idea what it had said. She'd never Trained a Pikachu before.

"I'm sorry, little guy, but I can't understand you. What do you want?"

"Pika pikachu pika pi?" it repeated, and looked up at her, still pointing.

"You want to know if I'm all right?"

"Pi!" it grinned, lowering its forepaw. "Pi, Pikachupi!" Misty grinned back.

"I think so. Where's Delia? How did I get here? What did—were you in there with that Ariados? Hey—hey, wait! Don't go!"

But it was too late. The Pikachu briefly touched noses with her and then bounded effortlessly to the floor, disappearing under the bed beside Misty's, the third in the row from the door. Misty watched it, but it didn't reappear. She frowned. Had it left the room? Was there a window somewhere? Was the hospital-dorm connected to the outside?

The sound of the door opening brought Misty's attention to it, and she watched quietly as an auburn-haired woman in her early forties backed into the room, a tray of pitchers, cups, bowls, and spoons balanced in her arms. When she turned and saw Misty she grinned and set the tray on a nearby dresser, closed the door, and dragged a foldable stand through the narrow gap between beds and dressers over to Misty, where she gently deposited the tray she had carried in. She immediately began measuring out cupfuls and spoonfuls of various liquids.

"So you're awake," she said cheerfully, glancing at Misty between measurements. "That's a good sign. Some people don't wake up for days after an Ariados bite."

Misty gasped. "How did you know?" Had she been talking in her sleep?

But Delia only winked slyly at her. "A little black birdie told me—and a very worried one at that. It's not often a poisonous Pokémon like that one gets out of its cage and nearly kills someone. Here, drink this—all of it, in one gulp like a shot or your throat will never accept it."

Misty took the small cup and did as she was told, her mouth twisting into a grimace as the freezing liquid tore at her throat like tiny knives. She handed the cup back and accepted some water, which helped wash it down a little. "How do you feel?" Delia asked when she could talk again.

"Better. Achy. My side's really bad and I'm still a little groggy. How long have I been asleep?"

Delia had gone back to measuring something again. "Oh, about three days. Not bad, considering. Stronger men than you don't wake up at all. Here, you can drink this one more slowly, but it still won't taste good."

Misty's head whirred as she sipped at the foul-tasting Potion. _Three days_? But that meant—all those lessons she had missed—her Pokémon locked in their Pokéballs in her room—her Totodile, God knows where...And the new patron for the stadium arriving tomorrow! The headMasters would want everyone at their best, and here she was sipping Potions in Delia's dorm! Dammit, she had _planned_ on using those three days to _prepare..._

"One more," Delia said finally, and handed her a large spoon. "It's a sleeping drought, to help heal the last of your injuries more quickly so you can be out of here by the time the new patron comes tomorrow. Drink up and rest easy."

Misty was holding the spoon to her lips when she remembered a new set of questions. "Wait. Delia, how did I get here? Did someone find me? Do the headMasters know what happened?" Do they know I was in a containment room illegally? she added silently.

Delia smiled kindly at her. "No, they don't know what happened. Only that you had a run-in with a wild Ariados—I believe they've sent out search parties for it."

"But how did I get here? Who found me? And how do _you_ know where I was?"

Delia smiled at her, a mischievous twinkle lighting her eyes. "As I said before, dear, a little black birdie. I'm friends with many little black birdies. Most people overlook them, but I learn many things from their little black beaks. Now drink up. I've other things to tend to."

Misty gulped down the burning liquid with a gasp, her mind still running over Delia's quizzical answer. A little black birdie? What did she mean? Wait—could that Pikachu have had something to do with it? But it was yellow...

"Delia, when I woke up, there was a Pikachu on my bed...a brown-eyed Pikachu...But it ran off..." Delia helped her lie down as her head suddenly loomed with sleepiness. "Do you know where...Is it wild?"

Delia smiled kindly at her. "Not wild, dear, but not exactly tame. You thank that Pikachu if you ever see him again, all right? Now sleep. Your muscles need the rest."

Misty found herself obeying, and once again felt her mind slip into oblivion.

**X**


	3. Raoul

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act i Stage iii**

_Raoul__  
_

_Misty was terrified._

She had checked her room over and over, had searched under her dresser, her bed, beneath her blankets, in her drawers, behind anything that could be moved, but it was nowhere to be found. She'd never felt so scared and alone in all her life—not years and years ago when her parents had unexpectedly died in that horrible shipwreck, not when she was sure she had felt the Battle Ghost's cold, bony hand on her shoulder one horrific night in an empty arena as a child, and not when that Ariados had tackled her to the ground just a few nights ago.

Misty could not find her Pokémon. Her PokéBelt and magnetic strap had completely disappeared.

And here she was, in the middle of a throng of Trainers—near the head, since she was one of the oldest—bare and naked without that familiar warm weight on her hip. She was awaiting the arrival of the stadium's new patron, and she didn't even know who she was looking for. The headMasters had kept their new benefactor's identity completely under wraps, though it was rumored he was planning to completely renovate the stadium, even knocking out some of the ancient stone walls to finally install electricity, heat, and water in every part of the huge building. For what reason Misty didn't know—she liked the old building just the way it was—but she knew he was a very influential man, by listening to the talk around her, and that he even owned his own small chain of islands just south of Kanto. But power and influence wouldn't be his problem here; the Phantom that lurked the dark halls and raised havoc wherever havoc could be raised was said to protect his domain viscously, and he lived in the very walls of the stadium. Which was ridiculous, of course, but a few Trainees seemed to believe in it.

Misty rubbed the sleep from her eyes harshly and forced her mind back to the present situation. It wasn't difficult; the fear that she would be called on to demonstrate her Battle prowess for the patron was strong enough to overcome even the constant ache in her side. She was one of the more advanced Trainees, and students of her level were often called on to effectively display the Stadium's talent. Everyone around her was chatting excitedly, their PokéBelts proudly displayed, Pokéballs shined, magnetic straps polished. All Misty could do was hang back in the crowd and hope she wasn't discovered. Easier said than done, she knew. She tried to edge uneasily backwards.

Wild, teal-haired Duplica had sidled up to her when she was peering anxiously in the direction of the imaculately groomed headMasters. Misty spun around in surprise as a pair of hands grabbed her waist—she was highly ticklish—and forced a smile on her face at the sight of her grinning friend. Duplica snapped her ever-present gum loudly and leaned her head close to whisper boastingly in Misty's ear.

"I saw the new patron."

Misty's eyes widened despite herself. She glanced around to make sure no one was listening and hissed, "Seriously? How? I thought they were keeping him secret."

Duplica waved her comment away with a purple-nailed hand. "Oh, puh. I totally saw him in the hallway on my way here. He is _so_ hot. He's got that hot islands tan, you know? And his _hair_—ugh. Gorgeous."

"Really?" Misty asked absently. She was already distracted. As excited as she was to finally meet this guy, she was still nervous about her missing team. She didn't dare report them missing, either; Trainees had been kicked out for much less.

"Hey, I have a hot islands tan too, you know," a low, gravelly voice cooed suddenly from Misty's other side. Misty didn't have to turn to know who it was. Duplica rolled her eyes and popped her gum.

"That is so totally not true, Brock," she jeered, and crossed her arms disdainfully. "Yours is more of a like, _dirt_ tan. Like the color of mud, not sand. Right, Misty?" She elbowed Misty in the ribs and Misty jumped, startled; she hadn't been paying attention.

"Eh—what?" She blushed and apologized when Duplica made a disgusted sound. "Sorry, I was just—um, I was just thinking..."

Duplica waved a hand at her. "Whatever. Listen, I'm gonna go get a front row seat. Wanna join?"  
Misty hesitated. Brock found the pause appropriate for his comeback.

"You go ahead, Gumball Girl. Me and Misty here'll enjoy watching you compete with Miss Prima Donna." He draped a thick arm around Misty's shoulders and grinned, nodding at something behind Duplica. Duplica turned and snorted.

"_Miss_? You've gotta be kidding. She's probably slept with half the staff. And you know what?" she added when Brock laughed and Misty smiled uneasily.

"What's that?"

"I'll enjoy giving you a show." Brock snorted. "And one more thing." He raised an eyebrow in lieu of a question. Duplica set her face and fixed him with a stern stare. "Ditto will not let that gumball comment go. Don't come crying to me if you're smothered in your sleep."

She was gone before Brock could respond. He watched her waltz over to May Haruka with a smirk on his face, then released Misty and asked her something. Misty jerked out of her trance and looked up at him apologetically.

"What was that, Brock?" He frowned and brought up a large tanned hand to cup her forehead.

"I said—nevermind. But seriously. Are you okay? You feel warm."

Misty ducked Brock's hand and crossed her arms over her chest lightly, mindful of her aching wounds. "Of course," she assured him. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"Yes you would," said Brock seriously.He was watching her closely. "Actually, I'm surprised you're not up front with the rest of our year. I had to come back here specifically to find you. What's up?"

Misty didn't respond, which made her feel guilty. Brock was the only person in this gigantic building who she trusted; she told him everything. But how to say she had misplaced her 'Belt...? Not even novice Trainers made such a careless, stupid mistake.

The crowd fell suddenly silent, saving Misty an awkward answer. She and Brock looked up; Master Whitney was standing with her arms crossed, glaring at the undergraduates. She was dressed in full Master apparel, which looked unusual on her; she was more of a jeans-and-polo-shirt kind of woman. The open off-white robe brushed the tops of her feet, broadly declaring to anyone in doubt that she was a Normal Master; the Plain Badge glinting bright gold from her neck further announced her upper-level status.

The students filed obediently into rank-based rows, excited whispers filling the large entrance hall with a low buzz. Brock pulled on Misty's uninjured arm until the two were against the polished wooden wall. He steered her easily behind a group of particularly tall lowerclassmen and bent down to whisper in her ear.

"I don't see your 'Belt on you. Have you still not found it?" She grimaced and shook her head; he bit his lip. "Man, you better hope the headMasters don't see you. They like what you do with your Poliwrath on land; they might want you as a demonstrator."

"Thanks, Brock, you're making me feel _so_ much better," she mumbled, and positioned herself behind a Sequoia of a blonde youth. The Trainees in front of her lined themselves up in proper rows and gradually the whispers hushed. Misty's uneasiness grew. She could get in a lot of trouble for hiding out back here, but she could get in a lot more for misplacing her 'Belt.

Applause swept the hall. Misty halfheartedly clapped along, praying that her absence wasn't noticed, and scooted closer to Brock, who was straining to see through a gap between two of the guys in front of them.

"There's Giovanni and Koga," he murmured for her benefit, and lunged forward suddenly in the deep bow that tore through the mass of Trainees. Misty peeked up from behind her hair as she stood again, but it was no use; she couldn't see anything. And that was good, wasn't it?

"Here come some of the Elite," Brock narrated in a whisper, squinting. "Look like escorts. And here come the rest of the Masters...There! I think I see him. He's shaking hands with them." Misty could barely hear the murmured voices of what must have been the exchanged greetings and welcomes; the rest of the hall was obediently silent. She wanted to see him, despite her fear of being caught. Hell, the man had been the main topic of nearly every conversation in the Stadium for a month now!

"Yeah, it's him all right. He looks tall...Silk blue shirt, sort of open in the front, I think...looks islandy...khaki pants, sandals...Mew, doesn't he know where he is? The headMasters are dressed in friggin' Armani suits! Um, reddish hair...Here, he's coming this way..."

Misty instinctively ducked lower, though she couldn't resist attempting to peer through the forest of elbows before her. There was nearly just enough of a crack to let her see...

The cheerful banter grew steadily louder as the troupe of Masters drew near. Brock resumed his narration softly.

"They're almost here. Man, the patron guy looks really happy. He's so casual! Looks sorta familiar, too...almost like..." Misty glanced up at him and frowned. His face was scrunched up in a furious squint. Curious, she bent again to peek through the elbow forest, but she could only see a bundle of bright yellow. Oh, of all the people...Surge was probably the largest Master there!

Brock's whisper drew her back to him again. "Misty, it's...hmm. I think it's..."

She resisted the urge to hit him. "_Who_, Brock?"

He looked down at her. "That Trovita guy, Rudi. You know, from the Orange Islands. I think he's got his own Gym down there."

Misty froze, her brain going oddly blank. Brock watched her, concern evident on his face, but she paid no attention to him; she could see him now, in a tiny gap between two Trainees, and how he had _changed_.

His hair wasn't long anymore—it had looked so bad hitched up in a ponytail when he was a kid—but about shoulder length and..._flippy_. His brightly colored shirt fit; casual, yes, but obviously enormously expensive, and tailored to drape about his sinewy frame like a silken second skin. She couldn't imagine anything but sandals that might accompany it properly, even if it was late August. He smiled suddenly at something the Etiquette Master had said, and his lightly tanned face split gracefully to reveal a grin that just..._fit_. He looked like the sandy island boy Misty remembered, but at the same time he was someone else entirely. Like the centerfold of _Master Me_ or...or the cover of some surfing magazine.

And she was just a lowly Trainer—_Trainee_, she didn't even have her Pokédex yet—one in a thousand at the Stadium. How had their social statuses changed so much?

"You look like you know him," Brock observed quietly once the troupe had passed. Misty didn't respond for a moment. She was...stunned.

She waited until the crowd began to disperse, until excited whispers started up again, to respond. "We used to be friends."

Brock's dark eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Seriously? _How_?"

Misty looked at the ground. She hadn't thought about this in years. "Our parents were friends. The Trovitas bought an infant Staryu from us and they sort of...bonded over it." She paused to glance at Brock. "We used to play together all the time. Then when we were eleven..." She trailed off and stared at her shoes, unwilling to go on. Brock picked it up from there, his eyes wide.

"You mean they..._His_ parents were the ones on that cruise with your family?" Misty nodded. Brock whistled and put his hands on his hips, dropped them, then decided to cross them across his chest. "Mew. I forgot all about that. I mean, I remember seeing the Trovitas in the paper when they died, and your parents, but I never thought...Wait, why weren't you two there?"

Misty shrugged, the gesture stretching the fresh skin on her neck painfully tight. She crossed her arms as well. "We were too young. I was staying at his place, I think. As soon as it happened they separated us. He went off to, I dunno, inherit his island chain or whatever, and I went here, since my parents were planning to enroll me here anyway and most of my classes were already paid for. I haven't seen Rudi in nearly ten years.

"But he's in the _newspapers_, Misty!" Brock objected loudly. "I mean, come on! You just _forgot to mention_ that you used to be friends with _Rudi_ friggin' _Trovita_?"

"Well it's not like he _called_ me every week, Brock!" Misty hissed back. "I haven't seen him since I was _eleven_, for Mew's sake, and then it was when his parents' Pokémon Exercisers came and got us from the beach to tell us that our _parents_ were dead. He probably hates me."

Brock's frown deepened. "Why on earth would he hate you? I mean, you were both sort of in the same boat, weren't you?"

Misty sighed. "My parents were the ones who bought the tickets. They bought some for the Trovitas specifically. If it weren't for my family..."

Brock made a move as if to say something, then stopped. "Oh." He said flatly. "But still. I mean, he wouldn't blame you for that, would he? I mean, it wasn't like you had anything to do with it. And they didn't know the ship would sink."

Misty shrugged again, a little smaller than before. "His little sister hated me for it. And they got me off that island as fast as they could."

Brock made a sympathetic expression. "That's harsh. So you're not gonna go say hi?" he teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Compare Gyarados spines? Polish Starmie gems together?" Misty flashed him a tired, grateful grin.

"No. I'll let him leave without seeing me. Don't wanna bring back bad memories you know?" Brock nodded in understanding. "Besides," Misty added with a smile, "you saw the way he was dressed. His Starmie's probably got some one-of-a-kind diamond for a center; mine would feel bad. You know how self-conscious he is."

Brock smirked. "Holding back for the Starmie, eh? How considerate."

Misty grinned back. "I try.

**X**

Brock dropped her off on her floor when they were dismissed; he was another three up. The hall was deserted. Misty hesitated before stepping away from the elevator, peeking nervously into the shadows lining the corners. She just had a...a _feeling_, like she was being watched. But that was impossible; everyone was downstairs trying to catch the patron's attention, showing off and making themselves known. There was no one up here.

Her door was one of the last on her floor, around two corners and across from only one other room. She walked slowly towards it, swipe-card at the ready, shoes echoing eerily with each step on the creaky wooden floor, eyes darting into the darkness of the ceiling. She was on the sixth floor of fourteen. The newer furnishings would stopped on floor five; her walls and floor were rough wood and her ceiling was nothing more than open rafters. Ancient-looking sconces on the walls spilled light on the floor, but they were powerless against the darkness above. At least they were powered by lightbulbs and not candles; the topmost floors didn't even have _that_ luxury.

Usually she liked the fact that her floor was softly lit; it gave the place a warm, sort of antique look. But now it only helped fuel the fear burning in her gut.

Misty's mind placed an Ariados up there in that darkness with startling clarity. She shivered and forced herself to move on. Mew, she could even hear the scratches it had made up there, that horrible clacking and hissing...

She stopped cold when she realized there really _were_ sounds coming from above her, and that they had been following her steadily down the hallway since she'd gotten off the elevator.

A cold sweat broke out on her forehead and she shivered violently. That Ariados was _not_ here, she told herself. It was two floors down and all the way across the Stadium, and locked in a cage to boot. But it had gotten out before...

A soft scrabbling just above her made her cry out sharply and duck away, her hand going for her belt knife. She flicked it open and held it out before her, desperately wishing—yet again—for something, _anything_ better.

The scrabbling subsided into a soft rhythmic clicking that moved steadily toward one wall. A moment later a bulky yellow bundle dropped from the shadows onto a sconce and clung there. Misty stared at it with her knife at the ready, crouched, breathing hard. It was a Pikachu, draped in something.

Draped in her PokéBelt. She recognized it instantly.

"Hey!" She pocketed the knife and approached it quickly, determined not to let it escape with her Pokémon. "Hey! That's mine! You _stole_ it?" A lot of people didn't believe Pokémon capable of human calculation and motivation. Misty was not one of them. She wanted to know why a Pikachu would nick an incomplete PokéBelt; the Pokémon on it were Trained to answer no one but her, even if someone else were to press the nose buttons.

The Pikachu watched her calmly. When she was only a few feet away it braced its paws carefully on the rough wooden wall and scooted down towoard floor, leaping off about three feet from the ground and landing with a dull padded thump. She stopped a few feet away and stared at it. It watched her without any discernable expression on its furred face, sitting like a cat, head tilted like a bird's.

"You know that's mine, don't you." It wasn't really a question. The Pikachu grinned and twitched an ear. Misty crouched, draped an arm across her knees, and held out a hand for it. "I could have gotten into a lot of trouble today. Give it back."

She was surprised when the Pikachu started obediently forward. It stopped within reach and nudged her palm with its tiny nose, purring softly. Misty didn't know Pikachu were capable of purring. Smiling despite herself, she reached to undo the 'Belt and it stood still, obviously used to being handled. Definitely not wild, then.

"Who put this on you?" she asked softly. It was draped loosely around its small body, but buckled so that it wouldn't fall off. She didn't care how smart the Pikachu was; you needed fingers to do that, and the mouse's small claws weren't enough.

"Pikapi," it cooed, and bounded away from her as soon as the 'Belt fell free.

"Hey!" Misty protested, but she wasn't fast enough; it was already up the wall, leaping from the sconce up into the darkness. She put her back to the light and stared, trying to mentally force her eyes to adjust to its depths. How high was the ceiling, anyway? There were no windows here, so it was perpetually black; she didn't think she'd ever seen it. Of course she'd never really cared before, either.

A scratching sound behind her made her whirl around quickly; the Pikachu was back, picking its way down the wall and leaping gracefully to the floor. This time her metallic strap was belted securely around its middle. She stared. Someone had to have put it there. Just now.

"Pikachupi..." the Pikachu said teasingly, and began backing down the hall. Misty looked at it, then returned to squinting desperately into the darkness. If she concentrated she could just make out a human figure...

"Is someone up there?" She couldn't see past the light, even when she shielded that side of her face with her hand. She turned to the Pikachu. "Is your Trainer up there?"

The Pikachu turned and bolted.

"Hey! Hey—" She started after it, then remembered the figure in the rafters and turned back, cursing. This could be her only chance to find out who it was. She started back.

"Pikachupi!" She glanced back to see the Pikachu disappear around the corner. Dammit, she couldn't lose her strap; they were expensive and she was dangerously low on funds as it was. Growling a few obscenities, she started after it.

It was waiting for her at the next corner, but disappeared around it almost as soon as she saw it. She trotted after it and hoped they didn't run into anyone; the Stadium's policy did not welcome strays, and she was a devout Water Trainer; she had no Electrics, and people knew it.

"Wait! Where are you..." It started down the stairs. Misty followed hurriedly, picking up her pace. She was panting when she reached the third floor.

The Pikachu lead her out of the northern dorms and in a long, lopsided trek around the closed cafeterias and through the Fire-Type classrooms. It was making a beeline for the arenas; there were smaller ones located near each of the dorms so that the students could Train between classes or in their free time. They sprinted past the closed doors at a dead run: one, two, three, four...

Five's door was slightly ajar. The Pikachu darted inside.

Misty burst through the door and froze, her eyes searching the darkness for the Pikachu. Her hand fumbled up and down the wall until it found the light switch and she clumsily flicked it on. A single bare bulb near the door flickered reluctantly to life; the other fizzled out. Arena Five was flooded with a sort of half-light that couldn't pierce its far side or its raftered ceiling.

Misty stood in the doorway, panting. She hadn't been in this particular arena in years; it was unfinished and therefore undesirable, really just a bare packed dirt floor surrounded by a six-inch thick three-foot tall wooden plank wall to keep the Battle in and any spectators out. Seniority had eventually earned her the upper floor arenas; fully finished and well-lit.

The Pikachu was standing in the long shadow Misty's silhouette cast across the floor. She approached it slowly. She didn't think she'd spook it, but she definitely didn't want to chase it around the Stadium again.

"Easy now, boy...girl? Boy," she quickly corrected herself when the Pikachu bared its tiny fangs. "Don't run again...please don't run again..." It held still while she gently undid the strap. And that's when she noticed the light.

A warm flicker had barely caught her attention from the corner of her eye, but when she looked up she froze in shock. A tiny, long-legged Ponyta was curled up as close to the wall as it could get—and as far from her. At least she thought it was a Ponyta; the flaming mane and tail were right, but it looked too young to be on its own—Pokémon generally stayed longer with their mothers than regular animals—and the color was off. Its coat was a soft eggshell white, speckled with dark grey dots over its rump and down its neck. All four hooves were socked in the deep grey, as well as its muzzle. A small brown bump of a horn was just visible on its forehead, peeking out from beneath the lashing flames.

Misty was scared. There was obviously horse blood in it, and it was spooked enough to lash out if she made any sudden moves. Discolored Pokémon were generally gotten rid of quickly in the Stadium; their animal blood resented Training and rejected it fiercely, which made them dangerous. This one had obviously escaped from somewhere, and it was obviously wild.

"Pikachupi, pika pi." Misty looked at the Pikachu, who slid out of the newly-loosened strap in a single fluid movement, then patted the back of her hand reassuringly. "Pikachu kachu, ka." It scampered suddenly over the wall at the back of the room, too fast for Misty's slow-witted brain to form a protest. Swallowing heavily, she turned back to the Ponyta.

Neither moved, though the Ponyta was obviously trembling. Misty looked down at the worn leather 'Belt in her hands. That's right; she had her Pokémon back. And they were Water. And Ponyta was Fire. She was okay. She was fine. She would not be burned to death in place of being poisoned. She had a defense now, and a familiar, dependable one at that.

Her hand went to her 'Belt and her eyes widened. Something was off; she quickly realized that that familiar weight was just a little too weighty. She looked down and saw an extra Pokéball; a warm one, too cool to be currently occupied, but containing enough heat to support a Pokémon. Frowning, she quickly recounted. Five Pokéballs. Wait maybe Totodile—but no. He wasn't broken into a 'Ball yet; he'd be struggling to get out. And besides, he wasn't there. Damn. Then where was he?

The Pikachu reappeared, this time with a torn note in its mouth. Misty took it with a shaking hand, suddenly scared. It said, in scribbled, sketchy letters, _"Take care of her for me."_

Her eyes darted immediately to the depths of the shadows in the rafters but, as always, couldn't pick out anything specific. They returned immediately to the terrified Ponyta, then widened in shock. No, it couldn't mean...

She looked to the Pikachu, eyes wide. The mouse blinked innocently, then tilted an ear and grinned. It padded over to the Ponyta and, astonishingly, patted it affectionately on the neck. The flames licked its paw harmlessly. The Ponyta neither started nor burned it, merely watched it with wide, rolling eyes. Misty looked from the paper to the Pokémon, her mouth forming words her throat couldn't. The Pikachu watched her expectantly, grinning.

"You mean she...It's a she?" The Pikachu nodded triumphantly. "But I can't...I mean, who..."

What was she going to do with a Ponyta?

**X**


	4. Firmín and André

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act i Stage iv**

_Firmín and André_

_"Sirs, your five o'clock is here."_

Misty nodded politely to the secretary and stepped nervously inside the headMasters' office. Her eyes, glued demurely to the floor in from of her, were immediately caught on Rudi; he was there, seated languidly opposite Giovanni and Koga, his frame spread across a thick leather armchair. Misty had never seen that chair there before; she'd always had to sit in a hard-backed wooden one with a thin removable cushion, if any cushion at all. 

"Ah, Miss Waterflower. Please, come in."

Rudi's head snapped up at her name. Misty could feel his bright teal eyes on her as she crossed the room. She did her best to ignore them. It was hard, though; in order to talk to the headMasters she had to stop right beside his chair. She wouldn't let herself look at him. She wasn't sure why.

"Misty Waterflower, isn't it?" Misty bowed in response; she knew the rules of etiquette well. Giovanni was standing behind his massive oak desk leafing though a manila folder—her record here, she realized with a start—while Koga stood with his hands clasped behind his back at the wide window. Rudi didn't try to get her attention, but she could see him from the corner of her eye, staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Hmm," Giovanni grunted. "Says here you're here to see us about Training a new Pokémon?" Misty met his small brown eyes over the papers.

"Yes, sir."

"Hmm. It also says here that you recently began Training a Totodile. Don't you think it's a bit soon to attempt breaking in another?"

Misty happened to agree with him. That Pikachu, however, had not. And she _had_ promised, however much she wished she hadn't now.

"This one's special, sir. Unusual markings."

Giovanni's trim eyebrows rose. Koga turned his head to watch her from the corner of his eye. Misty felt very small and very young beneath their combined gazes.

Giovanni turned to Rudi and addressed him politely. "Mr. Trovita? Would you mind excusing us for a moment? This may take a little while, and we don't wish to bore you on only your second day here."

"Of course." Rudi shot Misty a sidelong glance as he rose gracefully from his seat, then joined Jesse and James, the headMasters' personal assistants, at the door. His attention was immediately caught by their upright Meowth. Misty forced her attention away from them and concentrated on winning this case, like she promised she would.

Giovanni returned his attention to her. "Unusual markings, you say. How unusual? What are we talking about, exactly?"

"She's a young Ponyta, sir. Her flames are all right, but her color's off and she's got the beginnings of a horn way too early. I've been working with her all morning; she seemed all right when I led her around on a lead rein. If she's got horse blood in her it can't be much."

Giovanni looked skeptical. "And she didn't rear? She didn't burn you when you went to touch her?"

"No, sir, not once." Misty didn't add that she was fairly certain that was only because the Pikachu had warned it firmly not to.

"I see." Giovanni returned to her folder for a moment, then looked up at her sharply. "Miss Waterflower. You're aware this is your final Pokémon? Your sixth?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're sure you want to risk Training an unbred Ponyta as your last? Don't you want something more powerful? And...hmm. Don't you specialize in Water?"

"That's true, sir, and yes, I'm sure. I think I need some diversity though, and I'd like to be able to get around on land after I graduate. Gas prices are too high for me to afford a car." Inwardly Misty winced. She had not wanted a Ponyta—or even a Rapidash—as her last. Her sights had been set on a Dratini, assuming, of course, she could catch one. She had no use for a Fire Type.

Damn that Pikachu.

"Hmm. All right then, get her out and let's have a look. Koga, if you could step back..."

Misty obediently unhooked the 'ball from her 'Belt and pointed it at the cleared area in front of the window created specifically for that purpose. The Ponyta looked pathetically small such a large space.

The headMasters' eyes widened when they saw her, and they glanced sharply at one another in obvious surprise. Misty watched them curiously as she approached the Ponyta; she still frightened easily, and Misty wanted her on her best behavior right now.

"Giovanni, is that the same—"

"Yes, Koga," Giovanni snapped, and approached the Ponyta as well. Koga paused to press a button on a small plastic console on the desk, but he wasn't far behind. The Ponyta shied away from both men, dark chocolate eyes rolling as she scuttled nervously behind Misty's legs. The headMasters halted and shared another glance. Misty suddenly found herself subjected to the full power of their combined glares as they said sternly, "Absolutely not."

Misty frowned in confusion. She patted the Ponyta's head absently to calm it and tried to figure out why they were so adamantly against her keeping it without even giving her a chance to prove her potential. "But sirs, forgive me, but from what I can tell she has all the Abilities of a normal Ponyta and she's unusually smart as well. Sure, she's a little shy, but given time she learns to like—"

"Where did you find her?" Koga interrupted. Misty's eyes narrowed. _Find_, not _get_. How did they know she hadn't bought it fair and square like Trainers were supposed to? How did they know she hadn't traded for it? Bred it? Raised it? Did they really know for sure? Or was she just being paranoid?

"Um..." She racked her brain for an answer. Randomly "found" Pokémon weren't legal here. "Well, she was a gift, actually." Which was true enough, Misty told herself. Sort of.

Again, that shared look. Misty couldn't figure out what was going on. "Which Trainer gave her to you?" Koga demanded. He seemed really worked up. Internally, Misty was frantic. "Pikapi" wasn't going to satisfy them either.

"Um..."

She was saved by Rudi's appearance at her elbow. Startled, Misty watched as he reached around her to rub the Ponyta's nose. The Ponyta shied away, but didn't run. Cautiously, ever so cautiously, she sniffed Rudi's hand with a snort and crept gradually closer. When his hand went for her firey mane he didn't yank it back in pain.

"Hmm," he said noncommittally, then added, "She seems all right to me. Strong legs, bright, full mane, glossy coat...She's a little small, but I think she's a beautiful filly." He caught Misty's eyes as he said that, and Misty felt herself blush. Rudi grinned and turned to the headMasters expectantly. They were fumbling for an answer.

"Well, yes, she _seems_ fine," Koga blurted, his hands waving about in the air almost wildly, "but who can tell how she'll act later, when Miss Waterflower is alone?"

"Yes," Giovanni agreed, "you're right. Besides, there's obviously horse blood in her. Can't tell how much just by looking; we should analyze a blood sample to be sure. If you'll just allow us to—"

He made for the Ponyta, but Rudi stepped between them. "I'm sorry, but I happen to be a Gym Leader as well as a Trainer and Breeder. Won't taking her away for even a day delay Miss Waterflower's regime? I'm sure you don't want one of your students falling behind in her studies."

That made Giovanni pause. He turned to Koga, who said placidly, "That's true, sir, but we also wish to avoid our students being mauled by unstable half-breeds when such an accident is so easily preventable. Besides, you know as well as I what they say about discolored Pokémon, they're the same as discolored people: demons."

Rudi turned and knelt, looking the Ponyta firmly in the eyes. After a moment he stood again and faced the headMasters. "I don't see any swirls. She seems sane to me."

"But sir," Giovanni was practically pleading now, "don't you think, just to be sure, that we should test her for foul blood, and then—"

"Tell you what," Rudi interrupted, fishing in his pocket for something. He produced an expensive-looking Lapras-skin wallet, then a platinum credit card. Misty's eyes widened as he said smoothly, "If she injures anyone or destroys anything I'll take full responsibility and pay for her personally, as well as for any damage done and the finances needed to repair it. Name your price."

The headMasters hesitated, exchanging glances nervously. "Well you see, sir," Koga began, but Rudi waved his credit card between two fingers to quiet him.

"You know I'm good for my word," he said with a smile. "Or is my money not welcome here?"

The headMasters' eyes widened. They hastened to placate their patron.

"Oh no, sir—I mean, of course it's good here!" Koga exclaimed. "We're just looking out for the best interest of our student, of course—"

"Of course," Giovanni agreed smoothly. "We'll take you on your word."

Koga's gaze snapped to Giovanni. "We will?"

"Of course we will." Koga faltered under Giovanni's stern stare, and the latter turned back to Rudi and Misty with a smile plastered on his face. "We'll settle the financial details later, shall we?" He shook hands with Rudi.

"But—"

Giovanni swung an arm around his partner's shoulder and practically dragged him away. "We'll see you at dinner, Mr. Trovita. Waterflower, dismissed." The pair faced the far corner and began debating something in furious whispers. Misty didn't watch them long; Rudi was looking at her.

As soon as their eyes met she found herself blushing and had to look away. Mew! she thought as she recalled the Ponyta. She knew she'd had a crush on him before, but she hadn't seen him in _years_! This was ridiculous!

"Um, thank you," she managed to mumble, and immediately felt stupid when his smile widened.

"It was my pleasure, Miss Waterflower." He refused to take his eyes from her. Misty felt clumsy and awkward as she clipped Ponyta's 'ball to her 'Belt.

"I'm sure she'll be okay," Misty found herself babbling. "I mean, she was really scared at first when I—er, when I got her, but she's a lot better now, and she didn't rear once when I was leading her around earlier. And her coat's really soft—did you feel it? Not course like a horse's at all. I'm sure she—" She was interrupted by a loud voice.

"Where did you get that Ponyta?"

Gary Oak, the Master in charge of security, was approaching her from the door with long, determined strides. He stopped before her and glared, bright blue eyes fierce. She stared at him, startled and confused. Why did he care about it? Did he recognize it? Had he seen it before? Oh! Maybe he knew who had owned it before! She opened her mouth to ask, but before she could say anything Rudi stepped forward and replied for her.

"Don't you have a post to tend to?"

Gary's eyes narrowed dangerously, but Rudi's smile remained unaffected. If anything, his eyebrows merely raised a fraction of an inch. "You don't know what you're doing, Trovita," Gary growled warningly. His eyes flicked to Misty. "If she has that thing then she—"

"Oak!" Gary flinched at the reprimanding tone headMaster Giovanni had used. He turned to the pair with a frustrated expression on his face.

"Yes, sirs?"

"Come over here. The situation's taken care of now."

Gary stalked obediently over after shooting Misty a firm glare. Misty continued to watch him, baffled by his rude behavior—he had always been nice enough to her in the past, even when she was getting in trouble—until she felt a warm hand brush her forearm. She began blushing all over again, despite her best efforts not to. This really was ridiculous.

"May I escort you down the hall?" Rudi asked coolly, his voice smooth. He gestured toward the door. Misty nodded and fought down a swell of butterflies.

"Thank you again," she said awkwardly as he held the door to the secretary's office open. She was desperate to break the stifling silence that had settled over them.

"Don't mention it," Rudi replied fluidly. Everything about him was so fluid and graceful: the way he walked, the way he talked, the way he moved... "She really is a beautiful creature," he added softly, breaking her embarrassing trail of thought. "Mind if _I_ ask where you got her?"

Misty wasn't sure if she should tell him the truth. She wanted to, she trusted him enough to—they had been best friends at one time—but the Pikachu had made it clear that the Ponyta's origins should be kept secret unless absolutely necessary.

"Um, she was a gift." Misty watched his eyebrows rise and struggled to come up with more details. Why was he paying her all this attention, anyway? she thought wildly.

"Really? From who? I don't know of anyone who breeds mixed Ponyta for cheap."

The pair was nearing the end of the hall before Misty thought of a suitable answer. "It was a secret present. I don't know who it's from." She hoped he didn't question her further. She didn't think she could lie to him.

Rudi's eyebrows rose even higher. "Oh? Don't tell me you have a secret admirer here. I don't like competition."

Misty stopped walking at the intersection and blushed fiercely. She didn't know what to say to something like that. She had, of course, acquired the occasional boyfriend throughout her years at the Stadium, but none had flattered her so much, or been so damned _good_ at it. And she'd never had prior crushes on them before, either. The way Rudi's mere words affected her was driving her _insane_.

A warm hand reached up and tucked a stray strand of vivid orange hair behind her ear. Misty looked up and met Rudi's eyes, startled to find him so close. He was smiling warmly at her. "You've changed, Mist. For the better. I hope I'll see more of you? We've spent so many years apart; we need to catch up."

Misty returned his smile and nodded, her mind oddly hazy. Rudi held her gaze as he reached for her hand and kissed the back of it, then flashed her a grin and turned back in the direction of the headMasters' office. Misty watched him go for a moment, dazed, her chest fluttering awkwardly, then forced herself to round the corner and stride purposefully away before he could turn and see her standing there gawking like an idiot.

Misty's head was so clouded with thoughts of Rudi that she couldn't remember the trip from that hallway to Arena Five, where she'd promised the Pikachu she would meet it after her appointment. She wasn't sure what had just happened. He really remembered her. In a good way, too—at least, Misty hoped it was good. It looked good from the way he'd spoken to her, the way he'd touched her. Her knuckles still tingled where his lips had brushed them.

She found the Pikachu waiting for her in the middle of the arena floor. It trotted up to her expectantly when she entered.

"Pika pikachu, pika?"

She still couldn't translate Pikachu, but she had a pretty good idea of what it was asking. She proudly held up Ponyta's 'ball in response, a huge grin on her face. The Pikachu grinned back.

"Pika! Pika pikachu, Pikachupi! Pika pika, pika pika pika..."

He led her over to the center of the room, where something had been etched into the top layer of dirt, probably by a finger. She had to turn around to read it: _Haraia_.

"Pikachu pi." The Pikachu pointed to the 'ball in her hand and carefully sounded out the syllables, "Pa-ka-ka." He repeated the word. It took a moment for Misty to catch on.

"You mean that's the Ponyta's name? Haraia?"

"Pi!" The Pikachu nodded emphatically, long ears flopping. Misty frowned. Her euphoria faded to a warm tingle in the back of her mind as she remembered the mystery of the Pikachu's owner, and of the Ponyta's former Trainer. Or Breeder, since it was too young to Train properly yet. Whichever.

"But Haraia's not a Pikachu name," she protested, crouching to capture the Pikachu's soft brown eyes with her own. "Who named her? Who wrote that? Why won't you tell me?" The Pikachu's response was to grin devilishly and swiftly sweep his tail over the word in the dust, smudging it into an unreadable blur. Misty's mouth dropped open; she had been hoping to copy it down and study it, to try and match it with someone's handwriting in the Stadium. The Pikachu had snatched the note about the Ponyta away from her before she'd had a chance to pocket it.

"Hey! You—How could you just—" Her eyes narrowed as the Pikachu's grin widened. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she said angrily, frustration burning away the last of her happy Rudi bubbles. "You are. Well you know what? I _will_ find out who your Trainer is. I don't care if I have to follow you all the way to Hoenn, I'll do it."

The Pikachu grinned a sharp-toothed grin and cocked a ropey ear in response.

**X**


	5. Erik

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act i Stage v**

_Erik_

_Misty's frustrations continued to grow throughout the week._

It was as if the Pikachu waited for her to turn her back before it disappeared after their Training spars; she could never see where it went after it vanished in the darkness of the unfinished ceiling. She'd attempted to go after it once, through the rafters in Arena Five, but they were too old. The threat of one breaking and sending her hurling toward the hard ground ten feet below prevented her from trying again.

Occasionally the Pikachu would show up just to keep her company. She didn't know how it knew she was bored, but every time she was left alone when Brock or Duplica had a class without her she would find the Pikachu rubbing itself lovingly against her legs, out of sight of anyone nearby, or settling itself comfortably in her lap if she was alone. It even managed to work its way into her room somehow, though her furious searches revealed no hole large enough to admit it.

To put it shortly, the damn thing baffled and soothed her at the same time. And it was driving her mad with curiosity.

The Pikachu wasn't the only one paying her undue attention; Rudi and Gary Oak both kept an eye on her as well. Gary unnerved her, but he never tried anything and he didn't follow her when she was alone, so she learned to ignore him. Rudi, on the other hand, was becoming harder and harder to overlook.

At first she'd only caught sight of him during her scheduled public Battles. She hadn't paid him much attention then, figuring he attended student Battles randomly to emphasize his commitment to the Stadium, but then she'd heard him cry out for her once when her Seadra had taken a particularly nasty blow and she realized he was coming specifically for her. He hung around after that Battle to talk to her, then the next, then the next. She soon found herself expecting him to wait for her, usually leaning casually on the doorframe of the nearest Pokémon Center. She enjoyed catching up on lost time with him, and he seemed genuinely interested in her life and schooling here. She came to love that grin he reserved especially for her, when he caught sight of her approaching from over the heads of the gaggle of girls that inevitably surrounded him. She especially loved the way his eyes sparkled when he kissed her hand each time he departed, so vividly blue and green, yet neither. They reminded her of her own, and she had never seen that color look so good on a guy before.

After her final Battle for the week one Friday afternoon, he led her carefully away from the crowd gathered around him and casually asked her to dinner that night. Misty was thrilled; so she hadn't been imagining things! He really _did_ like her! Elated, she accepted and hurried to care for her Pokémon and prepare for the evening.

The Pikachu found her in her room, after she had donned her nicest white tank top, studded with vintage-looking orange-red flowers, and a long, flowy printed skirt. She was busy fitting her toes into a pair of comfortable strappy sandals when she felt its warm weight on the bed beside her.

"Oh, hello." She smiled when it looked up at her curiously, one paw pointed at her feet. It was right; this wasn't her normal Battle attire. "I have a date," she explained. The Pikachu looked surprised.

"Pika chu?"

"Tonight, with Rudi Trovita. Do you know who he is?" The Pikachu made a sneeze-like sound and buried its small head in her palm. She rubbed behind its ears affectionately. "Don't worry, boy, I'll practice twice as long with you tomorrow to make up for tonight, okay? I promise."

She checked her hair in the mirror before heading for the door to her bedroom. The Pikachu was already gone when she turned to tell it to leave. Shrugging—she was used to that by now—Misty closed and carefully locked the door, then turned to leave.

The Pikachu was waiting for her in the hallway.

Misty's eyes automatically darted around to make sure no one was nearby, then fixed on the large mouse. "You can't come with me, boy. I'm going on a _date_. With a _guy_. _Outside_ the Stadium." Her words had no effect on it. Misty rolled her eyes and left it behind to board the elevator. When she arrived on the bottom floor it was waiting for her again, tucked out of sight in the shadow of a wall. This time Misty was surprised.

"I said _no_, boy," she hissed, passing it and looking around to confirm that no one was watching her. "Go back to Pikapi; I can't Train with you tonight. I said _go_."

She couldn't shake it off. No one else seemed to notice it; it kept expertly out of sight in shadows and dark corners. When she met Rudi at the front doors it hid behind the leaves of a potted plant and watched them silently.

"Ah, Misty, you look captivating in that skirt; I love it."

Misty smiled warmly and thanked him, then accepted his proffered arm with a grateful nod and followed him through the ornate doorway with a skip in her step. When she had the chance to look back halfway down the busy street she could only catch glimpses of the Pikachu watching her from the Stadium's boundaries, one ear crooked dejectedly.

**X**

Rudi dropped her off at the door to her room with a warm smile, a soft kiss on her hand, and a promise to take her out again, and soon. Misty was flattered by the attention he had lavished on her throughout the evening; it was as if no one else existed, as if anyone they encountered was there for the sole purpose of assisting her or serving her or making her more comfortable. Money got him whatever he wanted, and he knew how to use it. Misty was blown away by the sights he had shown her; she'd never known such a sparkling, glamorous world existed just a short drive from her makeshift home.

When she opened her door she nearly tripped over the furry yellow bundle lying asleep just inside. Cursing, she caught herself on the doorframe and flicked on the light. The Pikachu blinked up at her sleepily, its fur ruffled where her foot had caught it.

"You!" she exclaimed, surprised. "Were you waiting here for me? Why?"

The Pikachu ignored her and yawned, stretching languidly. When she stepped past it its nose quivered and its eyes widened. It got to its four feet and pointed at the closed door, then proceeded to reprimand her for something.

Misty watched it, confused. By now she only knew enough of its language to pick out a few words, mostly ones associated with Battle. It took her a moment to realize it was angry that she had gone out with Rudi.

"And what's wrong with eating out for once?" she demanded, stomping over to her dresser and yanking out some soft pajamas. "I've been Training with you all week, you know, and I haven't complained once. I've endured your little Pikachu grins and your little Pikachu chuckles every time I ask about your master, then I try to go out and do _one thing_ on my own and it's not allowed. Just who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?"

The Pikachu chattered angrily at her. Misty watched it, her anger rising when she pieced together that it wasn't mad that she had gone out, but that she had gone out with _Rudi_.

"And what's wrong with Rudi? He's nice and charming and he—" Misty simply raised her voice when the Pikachu attempted to talk over her. "He _cares about me_," she finished angrily. "Your mysterious nameless owner obviously doesn't, if all he's going to do is drop random Pokémon on me and then send his Pikachu to carry out his instructions instead of showing up himself—" She stopped when she realized that the Pikachu's burning eyes had deepened into real anger. She'd been speaking out of irritation provoked by a puzzle she'd been piecing together all week—one that seemed to be missing most of its pieces—but she quickly realized she'd actually hurt the Pikachu's feelings.

It said a bad word. Misty didn't know its literal translation, but the way he said it left no doubt in her mind that that's what it was. She felt her anger rise again.

"Look, pal, I'm sorry you don't like it, but as long as Rudi's interested I _will_ spend time with him. If you and your mysterious owner care so much you'd at least tell me who he is and why he keeps sending you." The Pikachu bared its fangs at her. Before Misty could react it disappeared under her bed. She dropped to her knees and looked for it, but it was already gone.

"_Damn_ it!"

**X**

Misty didn't expect to see the Pikachu again for a while, but it was there waiting for her at the foot of her bed when she woke up the next morning. It looked happy about something, almost elated. Misty took the crumpled note from its mouth wordlessly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes to read it.

_Arena 5, after dinner. Please don't bring anyone along._

Misty was startled enough to wake up fully. She looked at the Pikachu in surprise. The mouse grinned and patted the paper with its paw, saying clearly, "Pikapi."

Misty stared at it, realization dawning slowly. "You mean...Pikapi...He's actually coming?"

"Pi!" the Pikachu exclaimed excitedly. "Pi pikachu, pika pikachu _ka_, pika chu, chu ka..."

Misty listened to it chatter dazedly, her mind rushing to fill in the blank spaces. She doubted it was Rudi, after that episode last night...Brock, maybe? But they were best friends, why would he bother with such an elaborate scheme with the Pikachu instead of just _telling_ her? She'd considered Duplica, but she'd studied the Pikachu thoroughly and it definitely wasn't a Ditto, so it couldn't be her either. Gary? Why would he; she scarcely knew him. Giovanni or Koga? Too important to bother. Someone else in the Stadium? _Who?_ She barely talked to anyone else outside of classes and Battles!

She took care of her daily chores with half a mind on the approaching evening. Even though it was a weekend, her Pokémon still needed to be fed and exercised. Since she wasn't bothered by any classes, she liked to use Saturday to catch up with them and Sunday to catch up on homework. This was the first time her party had the chance to get to know the Ponyta—Haraia, she corrected herself. She wasn't used to naming them. The Pokémon was shy at first, but by dinner Misty thought she was getting along with the others well enough.

She ate her meal on reflex, her mind somewhere else entirely, and it caught Brock's attention. Duplica was from the eastern dorms, so she usually ate in the Eaton East Hall and didn't want to cross over to accompany them tonight. Misty was glad; she wasn't quite as close to Duplica as she was to Brock, and she hadn't told Duplica about the Ponyta or the Pikachu.

"Thinking about Rudi?" Brock teased as he picked apart a slice of bread. Misty returned her attention to him sharply. For once she actually hadn't been. But should she tell him that? Should she tell him what was really going on? Would he try to stop her if she did? What if the Pikachu's owner was dangerous, or some kind of pervert?

"Actually..." She hesitated, then shifted gears and plowed on. "Um, yeah, I was. I didn't tell you about our date last night, did I? It was _wonderful_."

Brock listened with interest as she reiterated her evening out in the city with Rudi, but when she finished he continued to watch her as if waiting for more.

"And that's it?" he pressed. "There's nothing else on your mind?"

"What do you mean?" she stalled.

"Well..." He paused to shift his weight and grunted when the rickety cafeteria chair squeaked a vehement protest. "You've been out of it all day; there's gotta be something else. Or are you really that twitterpated by Rudi?"

Misty blushed. She knew she couldn't lie to Brock, though, and she wanted to tell him anyway...it wasn't long before she buckled under his penetrating stare.

"Well actually, there is this other thing..." Brock's eyebrows rose in interest. He grabbed his Coke for something to nurse and gestured for her to continue.

"What other thing?"

"Well, the uh, the Pikachu came back to me this morning."

"The same one that's been helping you Train that Ponyta?"

"Um, yeah, it's been coming to me all week, actually. Mostly to Train, but sometimes just to hang out."

"What, you mean like, watching TV and stuff?" Brock clarified. Misty nodded. "But why would it do that? Doesn't it have its own Trainer to hang out with?"

"Well uh, that's kinda why it came to see me this morning..."

Brock's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Seriously? You mean you met its Trainer _this morning_?"

"Well, no," Misty hastened to explain. "The Pikachu brought me a note that said to meet his Trainer tonight. I'm supposed to go to Arena Five right after dinner."

Brock didn't respond for a minute. He stared into his glass, deep in thought, then looked up at her from under his hair. "You sure that's a good idea? To go meet him alone like that? Why don't I come with you?"

"He asked me not to bring anyone. In the note."

"I dunno, Misty, this seems like a bad idea." Brock sighed and settled back in his seat. "I mean, this guy's had his Pikachu follow you around everywhere for a week, and now he wants you to meet him, _alone_? Don't you find that a little, I dunno, spooky? And Arena Five, I mean—you know what they say about that place. No one likes to use it anymore, not even the novice Trainees. Everyone says it's haunted. You sure you wanna go in there?"

"It's where I've been Training with that Pikachu all week, Brock. It's the only abandoned arena I know of. And I've never seen anything weird in there."

"Still. I don't like that alone bit. I think someone should go with you."

"Well what if someone did, and he saw them, and he refused to come?" Misty wanted to know. "What if, since I brought someone when he told me not to, he doesn't trust me anymore and the Pikachu never comes back? What then?"

Brock studied her with an unreadable expression on his face. "Misty, listen to yourself," he said firmly. "You're bending over backwards for this guy, and you don't even know who he is. I mean, what kind of guy doesn't even show his face, but sends an obviously well-above-average Pokémon after you for a week and actually _gives_ you another?" Misty made to interrupt, but Brock wouldn't let her. "You know what'll happen, Mist? If you bring someone along? He'll _leave you alone_. Either he'll deal with the fact that you're intelligent enough to know when something's off, or he'll _back_ off. I think that's fair."

"But Brock," Misty protested desperately, "I don't _want_ him to back off! He's helped me a lot; you have no idea how much that Ponyta has grown in just a few days, not to mention Poliwrath and Starmie—"

"But to _what end_?" Brock demanded. "Do you honestly think he's doing all this for _nothing_? He's going to want something in return, Misty, and I think in meeting you tonight he may try and take it."

The argument went on for some time, until both Brock and Misty finally conceded a little and worked out some sort of plan. Misty would go alone—the note had asked her to, not demanded that she did, but the Pikachu always knew where to find her and she didn't doubt its owner could as well. One of them would probably be keeping an eye on her. Brock had agreed to wait for her in Arena Four just down the hall. The arenas were unfinished, so if she yelled he would be able to hear her through the wall. Misty had temporarily traded her Gyarados and Seadra, both useless out of water, for Brock's Graveler and Onix, just in case. The idea was to catch the Trainer off-guard with non-Water Types. Misty thought it would work; she was set. Brock wasn't so sure, but he agreed to the plan anyway and set off to make sure Arena Four was empty. It was. Taking a deep breath, Misty stepped into Arena Five.

The first thing she noticed was her Totodile, waiting for her in the middle of the arena floor. She would recognize him anywhere. The Pokémon squealed happily at the sight of her; Misty did the same. After a week of his absence Misty was beginning to worry that he would never come back; try as she might, she hadn't been able to find him. She'd been on the verge of filling out a missing Pokémon report, which was sure to penalize her in some way.

Totodile leapt into her arms with a giggle and she hugged him tightly, cooing thanks that he was okay while simultaneously checking him for lingering bruises. There weren't many; he obviously hadn't been to a Pokémon Center, but whoever patched him up had done a pretty good job. She fingered the winding bandage around his head thoughtfully.

"This isn't Stadium material," she wondered aloud, meeting his eyes. "Where _were_ you, boy? Who did this to you?" She indicated the balm coating the remains of a burn on his tiny arm.

"Toto, totodile." He leaned away from her embrace to point behind him.

A man in dark clothing was perched on the far arena wall. One leg was drawn up beside him, an arm draped across his knee; the other dangled just above the ground. He was smiling as he watched her form behind a pair of sunglasses, the Pikachu perched effortlessly on his left shoulder.

Misty hugged Totodile closer and drew back, frightened. She didn't recognize this man, and everyone in the Stadium knew everyone else by sight from daily public Battles, if nothing else. When he slid to his feet she backed away further, and his smile faded. "Please don't be scared of me," he said softly, his voice low and gravelly and oddly familiar. "I won't hurt you."

Misty took in his dark clothes and hair and glasses, the rough material wrapped around his forearms and tucked under black fingerless gloves, the PokéBelts wrapped loosely around his waist and tightly around his right thigh, the Pikachu on his shoulder, and those final pieces clicked into place.

This guy was the Battle Ghost, the Electric Phantom, an Elemental demon. Good God! And here she was, _alone_ with him in—in his _own territory_! Arena Five! Mew, she'd been so stupid! Brock was right, she never should have come here, especially alone...

The Phantom's frown deepened as she stumbled back against the wall, her arm roving up and down for the doorknob. She refused to tear her eyes from him. Oh God, what if he _Attacked_ her? She was weak against his Element! But Brock's Pokémon...maybe...were they strong enough to defeat him? Elementals were said to be astonishingly powerful.

Totodile began struggling in her arms. Misty, startled, couldn't keep hold of him and he wriggled to the ground, where he looked up at her questioningly, his wide nostrils quivering. He stared at her for a moment as if waiting for some sort of explanation, then turned and waddled toward the back of the arena.

"No!" Misty cried out, fear seizing her. "Stay away from him, Totodile, he'll—"

"It's all right," the Phantom interrupted, and knelt to run a finger smoothly over Totodile's rounded spines. Misty wasn't fooled; the Elementals were notorious for being tricky. Well he wasn't going to trick her into trusting him!

"Please don't be afraid of me," the Ghost said softly, and stood while Totodile made himself comfortable in his arms. He tried to approach again and Misty, terrified, scuttled along the wall toward where she thought the door should be. She knew she should scream, call on Graveler, do _something_, but her mind was oddly blank and she couldn't collect her thoughts enough to try.

The Phantom paused again and glanced helplessly at the Pikachu still clinging to his shoulder. The Pokémon huffed and scampered to the ground, where it padded angrily over to Misty. Misty was too scared to move, now that she knew what the tiny Pokémon was capable of.

"Pikachu, Pikachupi!" it scolded. "Pikachu ka! Chu pikachu!"

Misty's 'Belt flashed suddenly and Haraia materialized on the floor before her. The Phantom grinned and opened his arms for the Pokémon. "How are you, girl?" he said warmly. "Has Misty been treating you all right?"

Haraia whinnied happily and trotted over to butt her head up beneath the Phantom's palm. Misty stared at him in shock. "You...you know my name," she whispered. The Ghost looked up at her.

"I do."

What else did he know about her? "You—you're the Phantom."

He gave her a twisted grin and adjusted his dark sunglasses, glancing almost nervously at Pikachu while he gently stroked Haraia's neck. "I am."

Misty was confused. He looked...human...but still! He was the _Phantom_! She'd been told horror stories of him since she was a _child_! He was a monster! He was an Elemental! He—he killed Pokémon for _pleasure_!

But he wasn't making any move to harm her, and two of her Pokémon were with him now and they were...okay. Unless he'd bewitched them somehow. Was that even possible? Wouldn't she have noticed? What did he mean by revealing himself like this if he didn't want to hurt her? And whatwas with the Training-through-a-Pikachu bit?

He didn't look like the horrible monster she had always pictured Elementals to be, and he didn't look like a ghost. What _was_ he, exactly? And what had he done to spark so many horror stories?

She turned to the Pikachu for answers, but it only stared at her with a stern expression on its face. She looked nervously at the Phantom, who was watching her silently. "Everyone says you kill Pokémon in—in brutal ways," she said weakly. The Phantom's expression turned grim.

"I know what they say. Don't believe it. The headMasters have been spreading those lies for years, trying to make us look bad." Misty didn't look convinced, and the Phantom struggled to explain himself further. He took and step closer and she forced herself not to flinch away. "Misty, we _help_ Pokémon, we don't hurt them. When the headMasters..." He hesitated. "When the headMasters get rid of weak Pokémon we take them instead, and Train them up. They live long healthy lives, I promise. Please believe me."

Misty watched him carefully for a moment. "You won't hurt me?"

"Of course not." He glanced at Pikachu again, then gave her a shy smile. It didn't match the stories she'd been told. He looked too awkward, too innocent, and when he spoke his voice was hesitant. "I came here to give you back your Totodile personally because...well, because Pikachu made me, but I think you deserved to know who had him all this time, too. I'm sorry it took so long, but he was pretty banged up. We had to use all the stuff we brought up for him on your Ariados wounds."

Misty gasped. "It was _you_! You and—and _you_!" She stared at the Pikachu in shock. She'd considered the possibility once or twice, but the memory was so foggy she hadn't been sure and the Pikachu had expertly dodged her questions. And then the realization of exactly what they had done dawned on her. "You saved my life..." She recognized his voice now, the same one from her dreams. It couldn't have been anyone else. But the Phantom was a _killer_. Why would he help someone?

"And I'd do it again," he replied with a smile. He had been slowly approaching her while they talked. Now he extended his free hand. "You're a good Trainer, Misty."

Misty stared at the offered limb stupidly, her breathing heavy. She just couldn't wrap her mind around the way his harmless demeanor contradicted all those bloody stories. "But you're the _Phantom_," she protested feebly. "You—"

"Only in a sense," he interrupted. "We befriend the Pokémon we save, like Haraia here." The Ponyta neighed in agreement and butted her head happily against the Phantom's thigh. Misty found herself reaching for his hand.

"Who...who _are_ you?" she asked shakily. He took her hand in his rough one and grinned.

"You can call me Ash."

**X**


	6. Masquerade

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act ii Stage i**

_Masquerade_

_C__onvincing Brock she had been stood up wasn't easy, but she kept her word._

She waited an extra day to reveal Totodile's reappearance, hoping not to make it too obvious where he had come from. Brock was happy for her, of course, but strangely suspicious. Misty didn't blame him; she hated lying, but feared what he would do if he discovered Ash even more.

As for Ash, he now joined Pikachu in their evening Battles. He only watched from the back wall at first, until something Pikachu did spurred him into action.

"No, Pikachu, don't electrocute her yet," he called out suddenly as he leapt from the low wall and hurried over. Pikachu stopped his Attack and looked up at him curiously. Misty's Poliwrath watched them warily, fists clenched. Ash knelt beside the mouse and pointed as he talked. "See her spiral? The center's not tipped; she may have Evolved a while ago, but she hasn't explored her full potential yet. If you shock her she'll only Faint. She hasn't built up an immunity yet." Misty was watching them curiously, a light frown deepening her eyebrows, when he looked up at her suddenly and addressed her directly. "She's never been shocked, has she?"

"Well I usually reserve Starmie for Electric opponents." Misty thought it was a good strategy; Starmie could store the electricity in his gem and shoot it back at them.

"Good idea in theory, but you would do better to slowly build up immunities in your other Pokémon, maybe even teach them to use the electricity to help fuel their own Attacks. They'll still be injured, of course, but they'll be able to bite back in the process."

Misty's expression deepened into a full frown. "I don't understand what you mean."

Ash showed her. He carefully explained how her Poliwrath could channel the raw power of an Electric Attack into a Counterattack of her own in terms Misty could understand. She was amazed; she'd never heard of doing anything like that in her classes. Ash wasn't surprised.

"It's a really old technique; this Stadium likes to teach newer methods in place of the ancient ones."

"But everything they've taught me has been centuries old," Misty protested. Ash's words invoked a strange urge to defend her home.

"I'm talking older." He refused to say more.

Misty was surprised at his knowledge of virtually every Pokémon she could think of, even the legendary ones thought not to exist anymore. Through the stories he told her she quickly came to realize he had a strange affinity for anything Electric; he revered Zapdos and Raikou nearly as much as gods. Pikachu did the same.

He was fine when Pokémon were involved—talking about them, Battling with them, draping one around his shoulders so it could observe the world from a higher viewpoint—but in anything else he fell oddly quiet. He seemed almost scared of Misty—no, scared wasn't the right word. _Anxious_. Nervous. Tentative. Misty couldn't figure out why, and she didn't know enough of Pikachu's language to understand what the mouse was trying to tell her. She didn't know if she should ask Ash or not.

It became obvious fairly quickly that he was human, not some Elemental monster or bloodthirsty ghost. Misty couldn't bring herself to fear him. She couldn't figure out where he lived or why, and he wouldn't tell her. He wasn't a student, he wasn't a Master, and he wasn't very old, as far as she could tell. She actually asked him once and he blushed when he told her the answer. She was surprised.

"I'm younger than I look," he admitted with a shy smile, obviously embarrassed. Before then, Misty would have sworn he wasn't a day over twenty.

His ways were as mysterious as Pikachu's when it came to appearing and disappearing at will. Occasionally, if a Battle or particularly engrossing conversation stretched into the later hours of the night, he would accompany her on a short walk down the hall, though he always managed to dematerialize in a patch of shadow if anyone came near. She never saw him with anyone else, and she never managed to glimpse him in full light. His features were constantly blurred by shadow.

His extra Training sessions, in addition to her classes and the schedule she had created for herself years ago to keep up with everything, made it hard to set time aside for Rudi. Misty felt torn over this; Rudi continued to see her after her public Trainee Battles, but their conversations together grew shorter as the weeks went on. Every Friday night Misty would go out with him to some fancy restaurant, and every Saturday morning Ash was waiting for her in Arena Five to keep her company while she worked and groomed her Pokémon. Misty's once-untappable well of energy seemed to leak out of her ears, leaving her breathless and tired by the time she tumbled into bed each night.

Brock grew concerned for her. Ash listened to her requests to include Brock in their nightly spars with interest, but he always hesitated when she got around to asking him straight-out. He looked like he wanted to be able to confide in Brock, but something was holding him back. Finally, he tried to tell Misty what it was.

"It's not that I don't trust him," he said quickly when Misty grew impatient with his infinite nods and shufflings while she pleaded with him. "It's just that, well, _he_ won't trust _me_."

This irritated Misty. "I'll _make_ him, Ash. We're best friends; he'll _listen_ to me."

Ash only looked at her, eyes pleading behind the sunglasses that never seemed to leave his face, and said softly, "I don't doubt his loyalty or his friendship with you, Misty. Brock's a good guy, I know. I just can't jeopardize what little safety me and Pikachu have. Can't you understand?" He wouldn't tell her why he had jeopardized it by revealing himself to her.

Despite the Brock dilemma, Misty was enjoying herself more thoroughly than she ever had in the past. Between Ash, Rudi, and her classes she scarcely had any time to herself and then any free time was spent with Brock. She missed his company.

She was amazed by the variation of Pokémon Ash seemed to have. Every time she thought she had memorized which Pokéball went where he would summon something completely new. It was soon obvious that the twelve Pokéballs he wore were not all he had. When she brought herself to ask about them one Saturday afternoon he hesitated before answering.

"Well..." His voice drifted to nothing and he shifted his weight on the arena wall. "Well you know what they say about the Phantom, right? How he uh, how he takes pleasure in torturing and killing Pokémon? People too, if he can?" Misty nodded uneasily, not sure if she liked where this was going. Ash shifted his weight again. "Well, he doesn't, obviously, since he's me and I uh, and I don't, but those stories, see, they uh, they don't come from nowhere."

Misty's gaze sharpened. She settled beside him and met his eyes through his glasses—or she thought she did. She could never tell for sure. "What do you mean?"

"Well, um." Ash swallowed and looked to Pikachu for help. The mouse stared back, obviously interested in what he was going to say. Ash's fingers fiddled with the tip of his jacket. "Well, uh, that's where we get all of them." It took a moment for Misty to realize he was done. She blinked.

"Wait, what do you mean that's where you get them?" she demanded, twisting around to see him better in the shadows. "Are you saying there's someone here who actually _does_ that?"

"Well no, not exactly." He seemed confused as to what to say next. Pikachu murmured something softly that made him swing his gaze to the mouse. "But don't you think she'll—" He stopped, glanced at Misty sharply, and switched to Pikachu's language. "Pika pikachu kachu ka pi? Chu pika chu ka pika."

Misty stared at him, startled. She had never seen a human speak a Pokémon's language before; they seemed to understand people just fine, so there was no need. The mouse's naturally high tongue sounded odd in Ash's low, gravely voice. Then Misty realized that he had switched to purposefully keep her from understanding what he said, and her suspicions grew.

The pair had a small debate. Then Ash sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and turned back to her. "It's the Stadium itself, Misty, it's not us. They take the Pokémon they don't think will make it and they sell them to scientists, or they perform experiments on them here with their own staff. Some are just culled for delicacies and sold."

He watched her face carefully as her expression went from disbelief to disgust, then back to disbelief again. "You're kidding," she said flatly. "I've lived her for nearly ten years, Ash, and I've never heard something so...so _wrong_."

"Sure you have. Every story you've heard about the Phantom is based—albeit loosely sometimes—on something real. It's disgusting, I know, but that doesn't make it any less true. Trust me on this one, Misty."

"And why should I?" she wanted to know. She felt wronged somehow, betrayed that he could accuse the Stadium—_her home_—of something so cruel. Sure, the Stadium wasn't huge on Pokémon rights, but they didn't take _advantage_ of them.

"You don't believe me," said Ash, his expression grim. He glanced at Pikachu, then stood. "Come on, then." Misty looked up at him.

"What? Where?" He had never taken her anywhere before. She was under the impression he didn't like to be seen.

"To show you what I mean," he replied evenly. "You'll never believe me otherwise. You've been here too long."

Misty flashed him a look while she stood. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded. He'd said it with a dark connotation. He shrugged in response.

"Just that this place is home to you." He hefted himself up so that he was standing on the arena wall, then reached up, took hold of a wooden rafter, and disappeared into the shadows. His arm reappeared an instant later, his fingers curled toward her. "Climb up on the wall and give me your hand," he instructed. Misty wasn't hesitant. She was thrilled to be able to finally see where it was he vanished to each night, but nervous as well. It was dark up there, and the rafters were old.

Pikachu chattered at her to go, so she recalled her Pokémon and did so. As soon as Ash's rough fingers wrapped around her own he hauled her up with a grunt so that she could grab hold of the beam he was crouched on. Misty clung to it frantically and struggled to heft herself up on top of it. She finally managed with Ash's help and a bit of exertion. He held her steady while she caught her breath and let her eyes adjust.

There were no cobwebs, thank Mew, though Misty had expected them. No dust either. She was surprised enough to comment. Ash laughed.

"No, of course they don't clean up here. We do that, so no one can follow us. Footprints leave an obvious trail." He pushed himself effortlessly to his feet and gestured for Misty to do the same, which she did with some difficulty and much clinging to vertical beams for support. Ash led her towards the single door. He went slowly and kept an arm extended behind him in case Misty needed to grab hold of it suddenly, but she managed fairly well on her own. By the time they reached the rough wooden wall above the door she was breathing heavily; she'd been terrified the entire time that the beam would break beneath her.

She watched as Ash carefully prodded something. A panel slid out of place. Ash took hold of the edges and pulled it out of the wall, then backed along a side beam to allow Misty to pass him. She was amazed by both his balance and the way the panel blended smoothly into the woodwork; she'd never have been able to tell it was there.

She wobbled her way inside a few feet to leave room for him, but she didn't care go any further. It was pitch black and she was terrified of bumping into something or falling unexpectedly.

The feeble light creeping in from behind her wavered as Ash slipped inside, then disappeared completely as he slid the panel back into place. For a moment Misty was frightened; she was in the dark, alone, with the Phantom himself, and no one knew where she was. Goosebumps flared to life up and down her arms and she wondered if everything he did had been an elaborate ruse to lure her up here.

Then Ash shuffled almost soundlessly past her and the spell was broken. Misty was left wondering how he had moved; she was standing on a wooden rafter about a foot wide, and she didn't think there were any more. She could sense the beams lining the ceiling just above her head, and her hands were pressed to the walls on either side of her; Ash had ducked under them.

His voice resonated from out of the darkness just in front of her, but she couldn't see him. She felt like a pair of floating eyeballs. "Just keep your hands on the walls like you're doing," he said softly, "and um, sort of shuffle your feet along. There are cross sections every now and then, but I'll warn you before you trip over them."

Misty tried this. Her shoes made a scratching sound as they scraped along the old wood, but she was unwilling to lift them in case she fell; she didn't think it was audible to anyone a floor above or below anyway. She kept her eyes on her feet out of reflex, though she couldn't seem them. Her hands slid through layers of dust and grime and Mew knew what else; she was terrified one would brush something nasty but unwilling to reveal her girlish fear to Ash.

Speaking of Ash, she couldn't hear him at all. She was about to ask him if he was still there, panic gripping her at the thought of being trapped in such a small dark space alone, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Misty jumped, then forced her nerves to settle down. It was only Ash, she told herself firmly.

"Sorry," he apologized softly. "There's a crossbeam about a foot away from your shoe. Didn't want you to trip."

He released her and Misty scuffed her foot along the wood in front of her experimentally. Sure enough, her toe hit something hard about a foot away. It was only a foot wide and about six inches tall though, and Misty managed to step carefully over it.

"Why can't I hear you?" she asked when she was safely on the other side.

"I've been doing this longer than you have. I'm better at it." Misty could envision the noncommittal shrug that probably accompanied his answer.

"Why can't we just go the usual way?" Misty asked breathlessly after another twenty minutes of stifling darkness, of rounding corners she couldn't see and stepping daintily over beams spread out almost randomly. Holding her feet in a line like this was tiring and made her ankles ache.

"I don't want to be seen, especially where we're going." Once again he was totally silent until his voice floated back at her from the darkness. Misty was becoming unnerved.

"Well couldn't I have met you there or something? No offense, Ash, I'm glad you let me up here, but I can't take this much longer. My neck hurts, my calves hurt, my arms hurt, and I can't see a damn thing."

Ash chuckled. "Sorry, but you wouldn't be allowed to enter and your interest would have been noted. This is the fastest way, believe me. We're almost there." There was another moment of scraping silence. Then, "You uh, you kinda get used to it after a while, to be honest. And these crawlspaces will take you anywhere you want to go, if you know where everything is."

Misty disagreed. She thought she'd known the Stadium inside and out, but she was completely turned around and lost after only the first few turns. "Do you _always_ travel around like this?" she wanted to know. It would explain how he seemed to disappear into the shadows if there were hidden panels like the one they had entered through spread around the hallways. Or were they only in rooms? Or only in arenas? She couldn't imagine traveling in eternal darkness though; how would he know where he was?

"Mostly," he answered, "but crawlspaces and main floors aren't all there is to this place. It's ancient, Misty. More than you know."

Again, Misty disagreed. "I've heard it dates back to the War. That's what, eight hundred years?"

"Pre-War," Ash answered. Misty was shocked.

"You're kidding. Nothing's that old."

"This place belonged to the Elementals and the Pokémon, before they were defeated. They don't teach you this stuff anymore, especially here, so don't feel bad for not knowing. I don't think many people do."

"Then how do you?" Misty was fascinated. He didn't sound like he was lying, and she couldn't think of why he would bother.

Ash didn't answer for a moment. When he did, it wasn't to her question. "This way."

He led her by voice to another panel in the wall—they'd had to pass through several on their way so far—which he slid aside for her via some unseen hole or mechanism, then helped her through. They ended up in an even _smaller_ crawlspace about three feet high, though Misty was glad to switch muscles for a while. She found herself blinking in the dull light that crept in from a metal grate in the floor. She noticed the end of a metal rectangle opening directly over it. Whatever room they were over must have been the last in its air conditioning network.

Ash crawled over to the grate—again, soundlessly; Misty was amazed his jeans didn't at least make a protesting scrape—and peered cautiously into the room below, then beckoned her over. She was surprised to see Pikachu perched on his shoulder again—had he been there the entire time? She joined him with some difficulty. She wished she hadn't. She could only see a small portion of the obviously large room from her vantage point, but it was enough.

They were over a kitchen of some kind—no, that wasn't right, she realized quickly, and she brought a hand to her mouth. They were over a _butcher room_. A thick wooden table directly below her was covered in skinned carcasses obviously waiting to be cut and wrapped. Misty held her mouth tightly as she identified them; that Farfetch'd had lost in a Battle only yesterday. To _her_. She recognized the three tiny scratches on its bare crown from Totodile's claws.

A stack of cages towered in the only corner Misty could see. Inside it living Pokémon were sleeping or shivering, curled up in tight balls in the back of the cage. Misty wanted to throw up. She had heard of eating a few Pokémon as delicacies, especially in foreign countries where certain Pokémon were more scarce, but making them watch their friends being butchered, letting them know they were next? Out of sheer laziness to build another wall? That was just wrong. Most Pokémon were as intelligent as humans—some more so—and such a practice would _never_ be allowed on people.

A moment later it dawned on her that her Totodile would have met the same fate if she hadn't gone to get it that night.

She turned her head to the side and heaved, grateful that she hadn't eaten since before noon. Nothing came up, but she tried again anyway, unable to stop herself. This was sick, wrong in the grossest, most disgusting way, and she hadn't even known about it. It had been right under her nose and she hadn't even _known_...

Her eyes rolled. She didn't know Ash was beside her until he caught her before her head could strike the grate.

**X**

She awoke in Delia Ketchum's room. Her immediate reaction was to throw up, but she forced herself not to; dry heaves were almost as bad as the real thing.

She was startled to see Ash there with her. He was perched on one of the dressers, one leg curled up Indian-style and the other draped over it, watching Pikachu riffle through a flower vase with a bored expression on his face. The mouse seemed to be looking for something buried deep in the stalks. Ash noticed her sit up from the corner of his eye—though she really didn't know how, since he was still wearing those damned sunglasses—and turned, smiling in obvious relief.

"You're awake. Good. Don't worry, you've only been out for an hour or so."

Misty closed her mouth and decided to ask another question instead. "Where was that—that _thing_? Where in the Stadium?"

Ash's expression turned grave. "It doesn't matter, Misty; you'll never get in. I'm sorry I had to show you like that, but I didn't know how else to convince you."

"Convince me of _what_, Ash?" Misty demanded. She curled her knees up in front of her and glared at him, her anger stemming from the horror she had just seen. "That the Stadium I've been living in is cruel and heartless? That everything I've been told in the last ten years has been a hypocritical lie? That something like that can go on_ right next to me_ and I won't even know about it?"

Ash looked truly apologetic. Pikachu had lifted his head from the ruffled vase to watch her.

"I really am sorry, Misty, but I didn't know what else to do," he said pleadingly. "Maybe I should have shown you more gently somehow—maybe I shouldn't have shown you at all—but I thought you should know. I think everyone should know. Maybe then they can stop it."

"Is that why the headMasters don't like you?" Misty asked as realization dawned on her. She had been trying to figure out why he avoided them. "Because you've been trying to stop that—" She couldn't bring herself to say it. "Because you're been trying to stop what they're doing?"

"Sort of. Mostly, yeah." Ash gave her a crooked smile before going on. "That's the absolute worst of it, you don't have to worry about anything else. This is still just a regular stadium here to make Master out of Trainees. Most of the people here don't even know about the stuff that goes on behind the walls. Don't blame everyone."

Misty thought that comment appropriate, since Ash seemed to have made his home out of the small spaces between walls. Curiosity struck her and she wondered where he actually lived. Surely not in a dorm, like the Trainers. Before she could ask, however, the door swung open and Delia stepped inside, carrying a tiny tray with a single steaming cup on it. Misty's eyes widened and darted to Ash; if he was discovered she would scream and they would arrest him! He wasn't looking in her direction, he had no idea she was there...

Before Misty could form a coherent warning Delia had moved into Ash's line of sight. He swung his head around to see her and she swatted his leg with a frown. "Get down from there this instant, you're going to scuff something."

Ash made a face at her back, much to Pikachu's amusement, while Delia sidled over to an aghast Misty. "Have some hot tea, dear, it'll warm you up, and I've taken the liberty of adding some Potion to it to clear your head. Thank goodness you didn't bump it on anything."

Misty took the small tray numbly, her gaze darting back and forth between Delia and Ash as the older woman swept around the room, putting things back in place and shooing Pikachu from the flower vase. The Pokémon clambered onto Ash's shoulder as he squeezed himself up against the dresser to keep out of her way.

"But—you—" Misty didn't know what to say. It was all she could do from tipping her tray over in shock.

Delia noticed Misty's stuttering and began feeling her head for injuries. "What is it, dear? Did you hit your head after all? I thought you said she didn't." She was staring at Ash, who looked surprised.

"You to _know_ each other?" Misty blurted, saving Ash an answer. Delia gave her a funny look.

"Of course, dear, didn't her tell you?" Misty shook her head, her mind whirling. Delia rounded on Ash angrily. "You didn't _tell_ her? I thought I told you to tell her!"

Ash looked startled, like a Wobbuffet caught in the path of an oncoming Tauros. "Well I was going to," he started to say. "I just didn't get the chance to—"

"You were supposed to _make_ one!" Delia fumed. Misty had never seen her angry before. "What would have happened if something happened to you in Training, hmm?" she continued. "She wouldn't have known who to turn to!"

Ash rolled his eyes and leaned his weight back against the only dresser with the mirror. "Don't be stupid, Mom, nothing's going to happen to me while I Train—" He was cut off by Misty's startled gasp. Everyone's attention returned to her.

"She's your _mother_?"

Delia whapped Ash upside the head, then turned back to Misty while he rubbed the spot tenderly. "Of course I am, dear," she said gently. "I keep an eye on him from here while he runs around playing Superman—"

"Mom!" Ash exclaimed irritably. Delia paid him no heed.

"—nearly breaking his neck up in those damned rafters, sustaining burns and frostbite and bullet wounds and Mew knows what else..."

Ash grumbled and crossed his arms, turning his head to glare at the door. Misty thought he looked uncomfortable, like he was embarrassed, but Pikachu looked amused.

Misty looked down at her tea dubiously. She remembered what happened the last time she drank one of Delia's concoctions. Delia noticed her gaze and smiled warmly. "Don't worry, dear, it's only tea. Drink it before it gets cold."

There was a sudden knock on the door. Pikachu skittled to the floor and in a flash he and Ash had darted past Misty's bed and dove under the bed beside it. There was a creak and a thump and a skitter of something plastic. Misty looked down to see his sunglasses peeking out from under the thick comforter.

Delia tsked and made her way over to the door. Misty heard her muttering as she passed. "Going to break his neck one day, diving headlong into holes in the floor...Come in, dear, the door is open!"

Rudi stepped inside. He smiled at Delia and hid the flowers he was holding behind his back. "Good evening, Delia. I came to see if Misty was all right. I heard she fainted?"

Delia fixed him with a warm smile. "My, word certainly travels fast around here. I only mentioned her once while I was in the kitchen making tea. Oh, don't worry," she added when Rudi's smile faded at the news that it was true. "She's perfectly all right now. Here, dear, I'll go ahead and fetch you some more tea."

She snatched the nearly full cup from Misty's hands and hurried from the room, giving Misty a strange look as she closed the door behind her. Rudi wasted no time; he quickly approached Misty's bed and handed her the bunch of soft blue flowers. Misty took them, surprised. They were her favorite, Spring Squills—he had remembered her favorite flower after all this time! She was flattered.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked her worriedly, sinking down on the bed near her knees. His eyes flickered to the half-hidden sunglasses lying at his feet, but he didn't comment on them.

"I'm fine," Misty assured him. "And thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful. Where did you get them? Aren't they really rare around here?"

"And expensive," Rudi replied with a smile, "but I'm more interested in what could have happened to cause a strong, careful Trainer like you to faint dead like that. And why are you so dirty? Where have you been recently?"

Misty had forgotten about the layer of dust that coated her skin from that god-awful trek though the pitch-black crawlspace. Her mind scrambled to come up with a creditable answer.

"Well, I was Training in one of the more primitive arenas, and things got a little...tense," she said vaguely, hoping it was enough to satisfy all three questions. Rudi's brows furrowed.

"Which one?"

"Um...Arena Five." Misty couldn't be sure any of the others had been empty that day; the weekends were busy days for Training.

"The haunted one? What were you doing in there?"

"It was the only empty one," said Misty nervously, hiding her anxiety behind the bouquet. "And besides, I like Training in the lesser arenas sometimes; it helps my Pokémon adjust to new environments, since we aren't allowed to leave the city."

"Hmm. I think you may be Training too much."

Misty ogled at him in surprise. He fixed her with an even stare, his expression serious. "What do you mean?" she asked. He wasn't going to go all "girls should stay out of the Training business," was he?

Rudi sighed. "Nothing. Just that you seem to be extremely busy lately, and I'm worried that it's taking a strain on you. I care about you, Misty." He tucked a stray strand of dusty orange hair behind her ear. Misty blushed and lowered her eyes. She felt strangely awkward. She hadn't felt this embarrassed around him since he'd first talked to her over Haraia's fate.

She felt the urge to fill the awkward silence. "I um, I should probably rest."

Rudi looked at her in concern. "Are you sure you haven't been working yourself too hard lately? Why don't you take the night off?" Misty hesitated and Rudi took her hand in his own. "Have dinner with me tonight? Please? I hate to eat alone."

Misty would rather spend the night interrogating Ash about what had happened today, but she couldn't refuse. Rudi promised to pick her up at eight, patted her knee, and told her to rest in the mean time. Since it was some time before Delia returned, Misty had no choice but to do so.

**X**


	7. In the Cellars of the Opera

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act ii Stage ii**

_In the Cellars of the Opera_**  
**

_M__isty paced her room uneasily, unable to sleep._

She twirled a single rose from Rudi between her fingers, thinking hard. Their date had been wonderful, of course. Enchanting, as all of her nights with him had come to be. He had brought up their parents, always a touchy subject between them, and the two had been able to talk freely about them to someone who really understood for the first time in nearly ten years.

He'd been very sweet to her and had unabashedly asked for forgiveness for questioning her as he had. He claimed he'd been talking to Gary Oak too much, that Oak was convinced there was some killer ghost roaming the halls and that he'd gotten the headMasters convinced as well. Rudi thought it was rubbish, but he couldn't help but become frightened for Misty's sake when he heard she'd fallen unexpectedly ill, especially after listening to Oak ramble on about how this 'ghost' had taken a special liking to her. Misty kept as silent as she could and thanked Mew Rudi wasn't very gullible. Ash was no ghost and he definitely wasn't a killer. Misty wondered if she could eventually introduce him to Rudi so that the Stadium's patron may have some say in Pokémon rights there.

But Misty couldn't shake off the guilt she felt for leaving Ash behind. Saturday was their day; Friday was Rudi's. And try as she might, she couldn't figure out whether or not Rudi knew about the slaughterhouse she had seen just that afternoon. She couldn't imagine that he did—she couldn't imagine that he could ever have anything to do with the mistreatment of Pokémon, he loved his own so much—but he was important enough that she wondered if the headMasters had told him anyway. If they had, was he rebelling against it? He hadn't mentioned anything like it tonight. Would he confide such a thing in her, or would he wait to abolish it before letting her know what was going on? Or was he ignoring it completely?

A soft knock on her door startled her out of her reverie. She opened it cautiously, wondering who on earth could be visiting her at midnight.

It was Ash.

She ushered him into her room quickly and shut the door. "Ash! Did anyone see you?"

He looked surprised. "Uh, no. I came out of the rafters just in front of your door."

They stood staring at each other for a moment, before Misty said, "Why are you here? Did something happen?" He'd never come to her before; they'd always agreed to meet at certain times in certain places.

"I came to make sure you're okay. My mom was worried that you moved around too much too soon."

"I'm fine," Misty assured him. "I was a little woozy at first, but that wore off hours ago. Tell your mother thank you for me."

"I will." He didn't seem to know what he was supposed to say next. He reached up and fiddled with the corner of his glasses. Misty found herself wondering what color his eyes were; she had never even seen them. "So uh, how was your date with Rudi?" He asked suddenly, shattering her contemplation. Misty stared at him in surprise.

"It was fine," she said automatically, then remembered who she was talking to. A smile crept over her face. "It was better than fine, Ash; it was breathtaking. Rudi's such a gentleman; not like anyone around here. I get so tired of watching guys try to charm girls through cursing and fighting each other."

Ash grunted in response, looking uncomfortable. Misty twirled the rose beneath her nose and wondered why he had really come.

"Mom said he was really interested in you," he said finally, though he didn't meet her eyes. "She says you're really lucky, since he's got half the girls in the Stadium after him. And he's rich."

"We were childhood friends, Ash," Misty explained. She wondered why he was sticking to this topic. "Our parents died together when we were eleven, in a shipwreck. We only recently started talking again."

Ash looked aghast. "Oh, I'm sorry! I had no idea! Are you okay? I mean, I know it's been a while, but..." He didn't know what else to say. Misty smiled at him reassuringly.

"I'm fine, Ash. Tonight was the first night we really brought it up, but I think it went well."

Ash grunted a response, then sank down beside her on the foot of her bed. "My dad was killed when I was too young to remember him," he said softly. "Mom's told me everything she can—she kind of had to, really—but it's never enough. I'm lucky he thought to write a lot of stuff down or I'd never have lasted as long as I have."

Misty frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ash smiled and pushed himself to his feet. "I should leave you alone; it's late, and you've had a long day, and I understand you have a mountain of homework waiting for you tomorrow. Is Monday evening okay, same time same place?"

Misty rose after him, unwilling to end the conversation. "Well—yeah, but—"

"Monday, then." He slipped out the door before she could stop him.

Misty released a cry of frustration and collapsed face-first on her bed. Ugh! He'd finally opened up to her, finally told her something about his past, and then he'd just _left_, right when it was really interesting! He was teasing her on purpose, he had to be! He couldn't drive her this insane with curiosity by accident!

She fumed for a moment, then found herself thinking about what he had said. He'd mentioned his father, something he'd never done before. Misty thought about that, and realized several things simultaneously. One was that horror stories of the Electric Phantom grossly predated his twenty-two years. Another was that Delia Ketchum, as far as she knew, had never been married.

**X**

She managed to chisel a fair-sized chunk out of her homework the next day, though she knew it would only be piled back on during the weeks to come. This was her final year here at the Stadium, if she played her cards right, and the Masters teaching her advanced classes didn't let her forget it. Her Training Battles had been growing more difficult lately as well, though Ash's extra sessions made them more than easy to deal with. She was actually a little worried someone would notice her obvious advance in skill and demand to know where it had come from. She didn't know what she would tell them then; she'd been giving all the credit to Pikachu when Brock asked.

It was near nightfall when she finally found the time to visit Delia. Her door was open and she was settled comfortably atop the far bed, reading a book. She looked up when Misty entered.

"Oh, hello, dear. Don't tell me you've hurt yourself again already?"

Misty returned her smile and shook her head. For the first time she took in how young Delia actually was; she couldn't have been more than forty, she was sure, even if she shared Ash's youthy looks. That would make her...what, eighteen when she'd borne Ash? Misty was startled; Delia didn't seem the type.

"Am I really that interesting? Or is there something on my forehead?"

Misty grinned sheepishly and entered the warm room, shutting the door firmly behind her. "Sorry, my mind just got...sidetracked." She blushed when she realized she was thinking about how young Delia must have been, and wondering how old Ash's father was.

"Completely understandable," Delia said with a grin. She shut her book on her thumb. "If you're not hurt, have you come for some other reason? Is Ash hurt? Normally Pikachu comes to me if he can't get here himself."

Misty wanted to stop and ponder that, but she gave her head a small shake and sat on the bed beside Delia's instead. "Actually, I just came to talk." Delia looked interested. She inclined her head for Misty to continue, but Misty suddenly found she had no idea what to say. In fact, Delia might even think her rude to barge in here asking questions like this.

"It is about Ash, isn't it?" Delia asked quietly. "I take your startled expression as a yes. Up until yesterday I was wondering why you hadn't come earlier. I suppose Ash staved off telling you about me to prevent this."

"Is he really that paranoid about me finding out stuff about him?" Misty asked. "He won't answer any of my questions. Ever. All he does is drop these little hints and then switch topics, and it's driving me insane."

Delia smiled in understanding. "I know the feeling quite well," she admitted. "His father did the same to me, once upon a time. But I'm afraid I can't tell you much."

"Anything would be welcome," Misty said thankfully, her mind mulling over the seemingly offhand comment concerning Ash's father. Delia shook her head sadly.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I'd rather he told you himself. It would be a very big step for him, you understand. Just give him time. It was all I could give his father, and it worked out eventually."

Misty stared at her, a wave of anxious disappointment welling up inside her. "You mean you won't tell me either? Just basic things, like who his father was, where he came from, how you met, where Ash lives, why he hides in the shadows all the time—"

Delia continued to shake her head. "You must understand, Misty, this is all quite new for him. He's not used to sharing things like you are. He doesn't talk to anyone but his Pokémon."

Misty was aghast. "You mean I'm really the only person he talks to?" She couldn't imagine such a lonely, miserable life.

"Oh, there have been others scattered throughout his past, of course," said Delia dismissively. "You're certainly not the first person to have caught his attention over the years, but you are the first to have kept it for so long."

Misty didn't know what to say to that. She couldn't imagine living alone even as a Trainer here. Only Brock's good friendship had kept her sane over the years, since she found it so hard to make new friends.

"I'll tell you this, and then you have to promise not to ask me anymore, all right? He'll come to you in his own time." Misty leaned in and listened attentively. "Ash is not like you or me. He's not like anyone we know. This difference in him, this otherness, has made many people afraid and many more angry. He has revealed himself before and has nearly been killed for it, many times, when he was much younger and very naïve. He's wary now, and frightened. He knows what certain people will do to him if he's caught, and he's trying to prevent that at any cost, even at the price of his relationship with people.

"But you're breaking through his barriers, Misty!" she said suddenly, her voice tinged with hope. "Give him time, let him trust you fully, and he'll tell you what you want to know, I promise."

After all Delia had said, Misty was doubtful. "But why would he, if he's so scared? What's so horrible that he's living in shadows to hide from? What's so bad that he can't even tell me?"

"I wish I could tell you. You have no idea how much," she added when Misty gave her a dubious look. "His father was the same, and I was much younger than you then. Just give him time, Misty. If Ash has learned anything living here all these years, it has been patience."

**X**

Ash didn't show up for their Battle Monday night, which worried Misty greatly. She didn't know what else to do but wait, so she did. After about ten minutes Brock burst through the door, panting.

"Misty! I thought I'd find you here.

Misty dusted herself off as she stood. "Brock? What are you doing here?" Was that why Ash was late? Because he knew Brock was coming?

"There's been an injury—a bad one. My night class was cancelled over it. Misty, I—I think it was that Ariados that got you that one time."

"_What_?"

She hurried over to him, frantic. That spider liked to travel in the rafters, as far as she knew. Had Ash not shown up because he'd run into it...?

"What are you talking about? Who was hurt? How do you know it was an Ariados?"

"It's Max Haruka," said Brock quietly. "You know, May's little brother. Misty, I—I don't think he's gonna make it."

Misty followed Brock down the hall in a stunned daze. "Max? Are you sure? But...he's only ten or eleven, isn't he? Oh God..."

"Some students found him in a hallway. We don't know how he got there; he hasn't woken up yet. Gary Oak keeps saying it was the Ghost."

Misty froze, her eyes widening. No, it couldn't have been Ash. That was ridiculous. He had gone out of his way to save her from that Ariados; why would he set it on someone else? But Mew, if it had gotten out again and Ash was missing...He had to have been involved somehow.

"Misty?" Brock had stopped as well and was watching her curiously. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I—I have to see Delia."

"What? Why?"

"I just—I do." She had to make sure Ash was all right, and Delia was the only one who could tell her. She would also know if Ash was somehow involved.

"You can't, Mist. There's been a lockdown; it's why I came to get you. We're all supposed to be in our dorms until the Ariados is caught and put down."

"You mean it's _still out_?" Misty's eyes immediately scanned the ceiling in alarm, but this hallway had a roof. There was no way it could sneak up on her. She was okay for now.

"You wanna stay in my room tonight?" Brock offered. He was watching her in concern. "I know you have a thing with bugs..."

Misty shook her head, her mind on the spider and how she could sneak to Delia's room without being caught by it or the headMasters.

"Are you sure? I'll let you have the bed."

"Thanks, Brock, but I'll be okay. It can't get me in my room, can it?"

"I guess not. Just call me if you need me, then. I'll sneak down to your room if I can."

Misty smiled graciously. "Thanks, Brock. I will."

She felt horrible when she snuck out of her room as soon as she was sure Brock was gone. She took the stairs to go down; the elevator was crowded with students too afraid to brave the open stairwell with a highly poisonous bug on the loose. Misty was terrified, but she forced herself to go on anyway. She had to find out where Ash was.

Delia's room was abandoned. Misty cursed herself for wasting time; she should have known better. Any horrible injuries were taken to the infirmary. She supposed she was only kept there because her injury had been discreet, though how Delia had covered for her three day absence was beyond Misty.

As expected, the infirmary was packed, mostly by staff and Masters. Misty swam through the crowd uneasily, rattling off something about having a headache whenever a Master asked her why she wasn't in her room. Delia was one of the nurses attempting to clear the throng.

Misty sidled up to her and nipped at her shirtsleeve with her fingertips, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Rudi was one of those few privileged people surrounding the bed, and she didn't want to have to answer any of his difficult questions right now. But he was listening intently to something Gary was saying and didn't notice her.

When Delia saw who she was she quickly grabbed Misty's arm and dragged her into an unoccupied corner. "Misty!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Have you seen—?"

Misty shook her head. "I was hoping you had. Is this the same one that..."

Delia looked worried. "I think so. It must have gotten out again somehow; Ash tried to take it in a while back but it wouldn't listen to him. If he knows it's out he'll be trying to find it..."

"He didn't show up for our Battle," said Misty quietly, answering Delia's unspoken question. "But if he's hurt wouldn't he—?"

"Not while I'm stuck here. Pikachu would never be able to get to me unnoticed in this crowd, and I'm afraid I'll be stuck here for quite a while. The poor boy didn't make it..."

Misty gasped. Her eyes automatically sought out May; she was sobbing onto the shoulder of Master Lance, who was watching the head nurse pull a blanket over a small figure. Misty didn't know what to say; there had never been a death in the Stadium before, as far as she knew.

"Misty, I want you to go down and see if he's all right."

Misty's attention snapped back to Delia in surprise. "What? Go—_down_? Where?"

"Ash lives a mile or so beneath the Stadium," Delia whispered quickly, looking around to make sure no one was watching them. Misty thought she saw Gary glancing in their direction, but he turned away again before Misty could say anything.

"What, _straight down_?" Misty asked, astonished.

"No, no, dear, I have no idea how far it is straight down, but it's about an hour's walk—"

"Through the rafters?" Misty wasn't sure she could brave them again on her own, especially with an Ariados loose.

"No, through some stone passages. Listen, if you can just get down there I'm sure one of his fail-safes will find you and Pikachu will come..."

A few minutes later Misty was forcing her way back out of the infirmary while instructions on how to operate secret panels and hidden doors buzzed through her mind. She was startled out of her confused thoughts by the shadow of a man following her out of the crowd. It was Gary, and he didn't look happy. Blood was seeping slowly out of what looked like four small scratches just above his cheekbone.

"You," he growled, hurrying over. Misty had to force herself to stay put. If he suspected her of something—though only Mew knew what she could have done to arouse his suspicion—running would only invite him to chase her, and she'd be damned if she was going to lead the Master of security straight to Ash.

"Master Gary." She didn't have to fake the surprise evident in her tone. "I—"

"You were Attacked by an Ariados just last month," he accused her. "You're fine now. Someone must have treated you immediately or you wouldn't have escaped unscathed—in fact, the way I've heard it told, you shouldn't have escaped at all. Who was it?"

Misty was taken aback by his agitated tone, and by the fact that he knew so much about what had happened. As far as she knew no one knew the full story of her Attack but Delia, Ash, and Brock.

Gary didn't give her time to respond. He loomed over her and hissed, "It was Ash, wasn't it?" He grinned at the astonished look on her face. "I _knew_ it! He gave you the Ponyta too, didn't he? He _stole_ that thing, you know. He's a _thief_. And now he's actually _killed_ someone—"

"Gary Oak!"

Rudi's bark was sharp. Misty turned in surprise to see him overtaking the distance between her and the infirmary in long, angry strides, his flashing teal gaze fixed furiously on Gary. Glancing only once at Misty—she saw the concern for her in his eyes—he quickly placed himself between her and Gary and pointed a shaking finger at the Master. "I thought I told you I've had enough of this nonsense. Now I find you harassing a _student_ about this stupid Ghost—"

"This _student_ has been helping him," Gary growled, his voice low. "She's even got one of his damn _minions_—"

Rudi threw up his hands in obvious disgust, his varied necklaces tinkling a soft objection. "Minions! Listen to yourself! You prattle on and on about Elementals and demons as if they still exist, as if they—"

"This one _does_!" Gary interrupted with a hiss. He pointed to the thin red lines on his cheek. "You see this? You think I did this to _myself_?"

"You know what? I think you did, Gary Oak. I think you're crazy enough to try anything by now—"

"Crazy, am I? You'll see how crazy I am when your precious little Waterflower girl doesn't come home one night."

Rudi's eyes flashed dangerously. His voice was low and even when he said, "You leave Misty out of this, you son of a—"

"Oh, hit a sore spot, did I?" Gary's crooked grin was smug. "Well I think it's about time you caught on, _Sir Trovita_. You think she found that Ponyta in a gutter, do you? You think her team's abilities tripled in just a few weeks all by itself, huh? Or haven't you even noticed?" His smile widened when Rudi's lips compressed into a thin line. "Ah, so Mr. Moneybags isn't as dumb as he lets on. Tell me, Miss Waterflower: What _have_ you been feeding them? Illegal drugs? A few doses of Elemental tutoring?"

Misty was startled when she realized Gary's vivid sapphire eyes were focused entirely on her. She lowered her eyes and fumbled for an answer. Rudi didn't wait for it.

"Leave, Oak. Now. If I see you near Misty or myself again I'll have the headMasters fire you."

Gary's grin didn't falter. "The headMasters know I'm right. Or do you think they enjoy having to bar their own doors against him at night?"

"_Now_, Oak. Before I have you physically removed."

Gary shrugged and turned away. "I'm just saying, Trovita. If you won't listen to me now, you will later. They all do."

The first thing out of Rudi's mouth once Gary was out of sight was a worried, "Are you okay?" Misty was surprised. She was terrified that Gary had aroused suspicions in Rudi that he might have been unaware of before, and she expected him to question her thoroughly about them.

"Um, yeah. Are uh, are you?" She didn't know what else to say. Rudi grinned that grin he reserved just for her and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm fine. I wasn't too late, was I? I saw him follow you out, but that place was so crowded it was hard for me to sneak away."

That was it? No "Why were you there anyway, Misty?" or "Say, how _did_ your Pokémon become so strong?" Just pure concern for her wellbeing? Before she could stop herself she blurted, "You don't want to know...you know..." She kicked her brain. _Hard_. Her spirits dropped further when Rudi's face twisted into a frown. She had half expected him to smile warmly at her like he did every other time she said something stupid in his presence. Which was fairly often, she acknowledged reluctantly.

"I've been taking it slow with you Misty because I thought—" He broke off there. Again, Misty was surprised. She knew he was moving things along slowly between them—hell, it'd been almost three weeks and he hadn't even kissed her yet—but she hadn't thought he was holding back for a reason. Her heart fluttered a little.

"You thought what?" she asked softly. He looked up at her from under his bangs.

"Well, I thought...you know...I mean, it is kind of obvious that your Pokémon have been getting some extra help..." He snorted suddenly, and turned to glare in the direction that Gary had disappeared. "I don't believe that idiot for a minute. A _Ghost_, for Lugia's sake." He turned his attention back to her. "But I mean, if there is someone else...you'd tell me, right?"

Misty felt a smile tug at her lips. She held it back as best she could. "You thought..."

He shrugged, and Misty could tell he was embarrassed. "Well you've been here almost ten years, Mist, I wasn't about to delude myself into thinking someone like you was still available at nearly twenty-one..."

Misty blushed at his comment and he blushed too, a faint red hue that tinged his soft sandy cheeks. "There's no one," she assured him, and felt let her smile take control at the hopeful look in his eyes.

"Really? No one? Not even..." She raised an eyebrow and he smiled sheepishly. "Well I always see you and that Brock guy together—"

"_Brock_?" She found herself giggling at the very idea. "Brock and I are just _friends_, Rudi. Good ones, but still. He's into the pretty girls, like Nurse Joy and, I dunno, that Suzie girl who's graduating next month. He only jokes about dating me."

"Well I think you're the most beautiful girl—_woman_—in this place," said Rudi seriously. Misty blushed furiously, her mind stuttering to come up with something to say to that, and Rudi took a step closer. She couldn't repress a pleasant shiver when she felt his warm hand glide gently through her hair. "I mean it, Mist," he breathed, and leaned down to her slowly. When he pressed his lips to hers Misty thought she might be floating, the butterflies in her stomach were so intense.

It was only a soft kiss, albeit a warm, wonderful one that left Misty's head reeling. After a moment or two—or an hour, Misty couldn't really tell—Rudi pulled his lips away just enough to smile at her, his eyes bright and filled with some happy, unreadable emotion. "We shouldn't be doing this here," he said, his voice just above a whisper. "Not with that Bug still free. Can I take you back to your room? I don't want it to catch you unawares."

Misty could only smile and nod appreciatively. Rudi returned her grin and kissed her lightly on the forehead before wrapping his arm comfortably around her waist and leading her down the hall. They had scarcely gone ten steps before a voice halted them.

"Mr. Trovita, sir! The headMasters are calling for you; you're wanted in the infirmary."

It was James, one of the headMasters' personal assistants. Misty caught Delia Ketchum squeezing out of the door behind the Master.

"Can't it wait a moment? I was about to escort Miss Waterflower up to her room."

James looked hesitant. "Um, they told me it was urgent, sir. Something about a lawsuit...?"

Rudi's grip around Misty's waist tightened. He glanced down at her, then back at James, looking torn. After a moment he said, "I'm sorry, James, but this will just take a minute—"

"I can take her."

Delia was hurrying over. Rudi looked watched her doubtfully for a moment before turning back to Misty, who smiled reassuringly at him. "It's all right, I'll be okay. It's not going to be hiding in the elevator."

Rudi's frown flipped into a sheepish grin. "No I suppose not. Are you sure, then? Really?" She nodded, still smiling. She couldn't seem to stop smiling anymore. Rudi smiled back. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then." He dipped his head a little, then stopped, hesitating, his eyes sweeping over Delia and James. After only a moment's pause he continued, and pressed his mouth gently to Misty's in a soft goodnight kiss. "'Night," he whispered, pulling away, and reluctantly relinquished her to Delia. Misty's side felt suddenly cold without his soothing presence there.

Delia whisked her away before she could say anything. Misty didn't even attempt to swim out of her happy Rudi daze until she noticed that Delia had pressed the B3 button instead of the nine. When she turned a questioning gaze on the older woman she was surprised to see Delia watching her with a stern expression on her face. It didn't take her long to realize why.

"Oh God. Ash. Oh God." She felt horrible. Any trace of happiness at sharing Rudi's first kiss was quickly swept away as a tidal wave of guilt smashed into her. "Oh God, I swear I was going to go find him, but then Gary Oak came up to me and started threatening me about Ash—Oh God, did you know he knew about Ash? He knew his name and everything, and it just threw me off; and then Rudi came..."

"I think Gary managed to pin him somewhere earlier." Delia didn't look at her when she spoke, just kept her eyes fixed on the flashing floor numbers. Misty's hand flew to her mouth. So he _was_ hurt...

"Oh, don't worry." Now Delia flashed her a wry grin. "If I know Ash he probably came out on top, especially to put Gary in the mood he was in tonight. I just want to check, though, to make sure. Every now and then that Gary comes up with something devious."

"You mean this has happened before?"

Delia's reply was coupled with a heavy sigh as the elevator doors slid open on the third basement floor. "Oh yes. The Oaks have been after the Ketchums for generations, since the time of Gary's grandfather. It's only a matter of time before one becomes headMaster and just collapses the entire underground."

Misty followed her through empty corridors, confused. "But, you're a Ketchum. Why don't they come after you?"

"Oh, they don't know Ash's last name. They're lucky if they can get his first; Gary's been extremely resourceful, he's much more conniving than his father ever was. Here, dear, hold up this tapestry."

Misty hesitated at first, then did as she was told. The tapestry was old and heavy; it depicted the ancient battle that had decided the present fate for both humans and Pokémon and she knew she could be severely punished for so much as brushing her fingers against it, let alone lifting it off the wall. Delia, however, didn't seem too concerned. Misty watched in fascination as she ran expert fingers along a thin crack, just one of many. There was a heavy grating sound and a section of the wall suddenly disappeared as if it had never been there.

"Rock Type," said Delia in response to the look of astonishment on Misty's face. She smiled crookedly. "Ash's father spent most of his life making it accessible to anyone non-Rock. It's the only entrance I know about, though I don't think I'm the only one. Come on, before someone sees."

Misty followed her tentatively into the gaping hole, jumping when a grating sound announced the stone wall's return right behind her. The pair was bathed in inky blackness. A warm hand suddenly wrapped around Misty's wrist and Delia led her down a cool hallway. Misty could hear the woman's hand scraping along the rough wall right beside them.

"How do you know where you're going?" Misty couldn't see a thing. Her ears were straining for any sign that the Ariados might be near.

"I don't."

"What? Then how do you..."

"I don't." Misty could hear the amusement in her voice. "I just keep going until he finds me. Sometimes I time myself. He's much slower than his father was; I think the longest it's taken him has been an hour, but he always comes eventually."

"But if you're not the only one who knows how to get down here why doesn't someone else come?"

"It's a maze," said Delia with a sigh. "I think there's more to the underground Stadium than there is above. A lot of it's been flooded by the lake, but Ash knows his way around all that, I'm sure."

"If it's so big, how does he know where to find us? Or even that we're down here?"

There was a pause. "You know, I'm not entirely sure. But he's befriended a lot of Pokémon over the years, both tame ones and wild mixed breeds that have lived down here all their lives. I imagine he uses them as a sort of network, an elaborate alarm system. We can't hear them, but you'd be surprised at what's down here. I turned on a flashlight once in my youth and nearly fainted when I realized I was three feet away from a pack or rat-Pikachu mixes. They're Pokémon everywhere."

Misty shivered at the mental image and tried not to think about what could be behind her right now, or what could be watching them. She was sure she didn't want to know.

Delia made small talk for another fifteen minutes or so while they blindly groped along. She seemed interested in Misty's relationship with Rudi, but Misty couldn't tell if her tone was disapproving or merely curious. She answered the older woman's questions as honestly as she could, unable to keep her excitement from seeping into her voice. When the pair finally fell silent Misty thought she could hear something. She strained her ears and tried to think of what it sounded like.

"Footsteps," Delia murmured, and Misty agreed with her. A soft rhythmic pounding was growing steadily louder. "Must be Ash."

"Are you sure?" Misty wondered if Gary knew about these tunnels.

"Who else would run headlong through this pitch blackness? Going to trip and break his neck one day...Here, step over to the side. I think we're in one of the smaller tunnels."

"Should we call out to him?"

"I'm sure he knows we're here. Have faith in him, Misty, and stop shivering. He wouldn't be coming this way if he didn't know we're here."

Misty tried to stop shaking, but it was so cold and she hadn't thought to grab her jacket in her haste. She backed up against a wall and shivered at its cool dampness.

The footsteps grew to a deafening level, their rhythm rebounding off the stone all around them and throwing the echo every which way. Misty sincerely hoped it really was Ash coming.

They rounded a corner somewhere, their volume doubling, and Misty squinted in the darkness, trying to make something out. A heavy object slammed into her foot suddenly and there was a whoosh of air, a scuffle, and the footsteps ceased. Misty could hear someone panting. She looked down and saw, a few feet away at about knee level, a soft yellow glow illuminating the silhouette of a pair of glasses. Yellow light spilled down the hall suddenly, and Misty blinked away spots.

"Mom? Misty? What are you doing here?" Ash's voice was incredulous. Misty peeked out from behind her elbow to seem him crouched on the floor, one hand on the wall beside him. A liquidy yellow substance was flowing through a groove beneath his hand, stretching both ways down the wall. Three more empty grooves flickered in its warm light.

"Us? What about _you_? Didn't you come here to get us?"

"What? Um, no." He pushed himself to his feet and took his hand from the wall. It remained alight.

"No?"

Ash met his mother's hardened eyes with a frown. "I was on my way up to get that Ariados. Why? What are you doing down here? And—" He stopped and glanced at Misty.

"Nevermind her. Where's Pikachu?"

"I don't know. Off looking for the Ariados, I think. Why? Did something happen?"

Delia hesitated. "It's May's little brother. He—he didn't make it after all."

Ash's eyes widened behind his glasses, then lowered in a frown. He turned his head to the side and cursed.

"Gary's gallivanting around saying it was you who let it out," Delia continued, fixing him with a concerned stare. "Did you two—"

"That bastard attacked _me_," Ash growled. Misty's eyes grazed his body and picked out a slightly darker hue on his cheek. A bruise? "_He's_ the one who knocked the damn cage over. Idiot...He's probably convinced himself it was all my fault, too."

"There's never been a death before," said Delia softly. "Not since before your father's time. This might spur them into action. Real action."

"I know. I'll have to collapse some tunnels soon..." Ash's eyes—what Misty could see of them—were fixed on the crease where the wall met the floor. He swung them up to her suddenly and crossed his arms. "So what are you two doing down here? They haven't caught the Ariados yet, have they?"

"No," said Delia sharply, "and you're not going up to help."

Ash stared at his mother in surprise. "What? Of course I—"

"No, it's too dangerous, especially if Gary's got the headMasters searching for you as well."

"But I can't just—"

"Let the Stadium handle it this time, Ash. They've already got the students in their rooms; no one else will get hurt."

Ash and Delia glared at one another in silence for a moment before Ash looked away and shifted his footing. "I think this is a mistake—"

"I don't care."

"I think one of the search parties is gonna get hurt—"

"Just as easy as you could."

Ash glared at her. "Can I at least take Misty up? Gary already linked her to you; seeing you escort her anywhere now will only confirm any wild suspicions he's already formed."

"Actually, I think I'd be better if she stayed down here with you."

"_What_?"

Misty was so surprised she hardly noticed Ash's voice echoing her own. Stay—_down here_? With _Ash_?

Then her mind processed the possibilities and she discovered how vastly curious she really was. She could see where he lived—_how_ he lived, if the headMasters were trying to get rid of him.

"Mom, you can't be serious," Ash protested. "I mean—I—"

"Gary cornered her earlier." Ash stopped babbling at his Delia's words.

"He what?"

"He knows. If he doesn't have a post at her room yet, he will soon. Sending her back up there now will only give him a hostage."

"What?" Ash and Delia's attention swung to Misty, who found herself laughing at such a ridiculous thought. "Gary wouldn't do that. Keep me hostage to...who..."

They weren't laughing. Delia fixed her with a stern gaze and Misty felt real fear sweep through her. They would seriously hold her hostage just to get to Ash? But how was that _legal_? How did that _work_? And worse yet: Had they actually done it _before_?

"But—I can't just—" She struggled to find words to convey her shock. "What about tomorrow, then? I have class at noon, and I can't just _disappear_—"

"I'll get you to class on time." It came out as a mumble. Ash was glaring heatedly at the ground.

"But—"

He looked up at her. "If Gary's watching you this is no small matter. The guy's crazy, Misty. If he can't get the headMasters to use you as some sort of bait he'll just do it himself."

Misty felt her temper flare. "You're talking to me like I'm some helpless little..._girl_." She spat the word out vehemently. "I can take care of myself, Ash."

"For how long?" he countered. "Do you really want to go to bed tonight worrying that he'll break into your room? Because stuff like that isn't beneath him, Misty. You don't know him like I do. He _hates_ me, and he'll go to any length—even if it means hurting you—to catch me."

"Why?" Misty demanded. "What have you done to make him hate you so much? What have you done to be...to be _banished_ to the forgotten underground of some ancient building? Why are the headMasters after you? What did you _do_?"

The barrage of questions caught him off-guard, and he stared at her in surprise. Misty glared back. She was tired of all the secrets. She wanted to _know_.

Delia was watching Ash curiously. When Ash noticed he glared at her and stomped back in the direction she and Misty had come from. "Come on."

"What? But—"

Ash glanced back over his shoulder and growled, "_Stay here_!" Misty was startled enough to obey. Delia shot her a comforting look and hurried past.

"Don't worry, dear. You're safer down here than up there, trust me."

Misty watched them disappear around a corner, arguing furiously in lowered voices, then turned to look curiously at the wall Ash had lit up. She found herself puzzling over the yellow substance flowing smoothly through a roundish groove about an inch deep, cut right into the stone. It ran lazily all the way down the wall on either side, curving into intricate patterns with the three empty grooves. A glance at the wall opposite revealed four more unlit grooves in an identical pattern.

She couldn't find any sort of light switch. When she cautiously poked at the substance she realized there really was no barrier over it, and jerked her finger back when it received a nasty electric shock. What the hell? What _was_ that stuff? And what was keeping it in the wall?

"Sorry it took so long; I had to find someone to send after Pikachu."

Misty jumped at the voice and whirled around, her finger in her mouth. Ash was standing a few feet behind her, looking harassed. His eyes focused on her finger and he frowned. "Oh jeez, you didn't touch it, did you?"

"What is it?" Misty asked around her finger.

"Electric current. Are you okay? Don't touch it again; it's strong enough to kill you."

Misty didn't need the warning; she had no intention of even setting foot near it again. Instead she focused on what Ash had said. " Someone else is down here?"

"What?"

"You said you had to find someone to..."

"Oh, that." He shifted his feet. "I meant a Pokémon. So um...right. Stuck down here with me. Hopefully Gary will cool down by tomorrow. If not, I'll have a talk with him while you're in class."

"That doesn't sound like such a good idea." Misty didn't want them to fight again, especially over something she had done. Though she wasn't quite sure what that was yet.

"Don't worry about it; it won't be the first time. Come on, it's cold here."

Misty followed him down the hall, her mind on the mysterious electricity running along the wall. Had he put it there? How? She tried asking him about it, but he shrugged her off and led her deeper down through the tunnels. It got so cold she found herself shivering as she cursed October to the very depths of hell.

"Here." Ash shrugged off his dark jacket and handed it to her. "Don't worry, it's not much further now." His jacket was warm and smelled like him; sort of like dust and static electricity. It was a very homey smell.

Apparently he wore a black t-shirt under the jacket, and had wrapped some sort of rough bandage around each of his arms that disappeared under his gloves and stopped a little before his elbows. Misty could see what looked like burn marks and scratches in it; she was burning to ask about them, but realized he wasn't in a question-friendly mood right now and knew she wouldn't get much out of him. He didn't seem all that moody though, like he sometimes got—Misty hated those times, when all he seemed to do was stare into some dark corner and think deep, mysterious thoughts he refused to share with her. Instead he seemed nervous. Misty wondered if it was because she was invading his territory, and felt guilt creep in over the curiosity. He'd done so much for her already; she hated that she might be making him uncomfortable by encroaching on his territory.

He led her through a maze. Each time they crossed to an unlit wall he simply touched it and it flared to life as the wall behind them blinked out. Misty asked him about it, but he looked away and mumbled some gibberish she knew wasn't a real answer anyway. Guilt or not, he was beginning to frustrate her.

"This way." He led her around a final corner and tugged open a thick wooden door that looked older than some of the more ancient arena ones. He beckoned her through it and stepped in after her, closing the door with a solid boom behind them. Everything was pitch black for a moment, before that eerie yellow electricity flowed from a point somewhere behind Misty to light up each of the walls. Misty glanced back to see Ash's hand on an apparently blank patch of wall and frowned.

Then her attention was caught by the ancient-looking tapestry on the wall beside his splayed fingers and her irritation was replaced by amazement. It looked older than the one on display in the Stadium, and it was much clearer. She could actually pick out the individual Pokémon as they rushed into the battle.

Her eyes grazed the rest of the room and widened considerably. It was a large room, made of cleanly cut stone but not damp, with an arched doorless doorway in the wall opposite her and on each side. And it was red. Very red. Ancient tapestries hung from the walls and thick, intricate rugs covered the floor. A smallish Charizard dozed in the far corner, curled around a young Charmander. A few bats and Zubats hung from various crevices and peeked lazily at her from behind furled wings. Eyes glowered at her from the dark rooms beyond.

And books. Books were _everywhere_; piled up on the floor in haphazard heaps, spilling over each other on the ornate ebony desk opposite the Charizard, even supporting some of the great lizard's weight. Most were thick and leather-bound, old yellowing pages covered in a strange, unfamiliar language. Misty peered at it.

"Ash, can you read this?"

"Yeah. Sort of. Come on."

There was a warm pressure on her back as he led her to the room on her left, which lit up to reveal another study of sorts only more blue and—was that a Feraligatr in the corner?—then left again through what she thought was a—a _gaming_ room? She tried to stop and look around, her curiosity gnawing away at her stomach, but he wouldn't let her. Instead he led her hurriedly through a maze of rooms; a kitchen, a brownish room, down a hallway, past what looked like water lapping at the base of some stone stairs, through some more rooms...

"It's late," he said when she tried to stop again. "I don't have time to give you a tour, and it's way too dangerous to wander around on your own. All of the Pokémon here trust me and me alone right now."

"But I—"

He must have heard the frustration in her voice because his own softened. "Tomorrow, I promise. But right now Pikachu's still out there and I just...I can't right now, okay?"

She sighed and let him lead her along, though that didn't stop her from taking in as much as she could about each room they passed through. He finally stopped in a room with no more doorways and rushed around her to scoop up an armful of clothes from the floor, which he tossed unceremoniously into a mound in the corner. He stood and looked around at the other bric-a-brac littering the floor, then looked at her.

"I uh, don't really have a guest bedroom, so you can have mine." He cut her off when she tried to protest. "No, I mean it. I have to wait up for Pikachu anyway. Will you be okay in here by yourself?"

Misty looked around. A large rumpled bed along one wall, a TV on the other. A...PlayStation2? Pokémon gear on the floor, stacks of bookmarked books in the corner. She turned back to Ash, who was watching her anxiously.

"I think so..."

"Good. Oh, good. Listen, I have to go find Pikachu and lead any hunts away from here, okay? Normally I don't use that light, and if anyone saw it..."

Misty nodded numbly and he gave her a lopsided grin before rushing past her and out of the room. "Stay in there and you'll be okay. I'll be back as soon as I can. And _don't go snooping_. The Charizard won't like it."

He closed the door behind him but didn't lock it, which irked Misty somewhat. If he had she would have taken it as incentive to try and break out, but if he was going to actually trust her like this, well...

There was always his actual _room_ to pick through, and what better place to snoop than that?

**X**


	8. The Mysterious Reason

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act ii Stage iii  
**

_The Mysterious Reason_

_M__isty fell asleep on a stack of books._

She woke up with a crick in her neck and a raw red patch on her cheek where it had rested on the frayed, yellowing pages of an old leather-bound book. She looked around her groggily, but the room she was in was dark. It certainly hadn't been that way when she'd fallen asleep reading...

Suddenly she was much more awake. _Reading_! She peeled her head off the book and sat up quickly, staring at the print beneath her in shock. Something pooled around her waist; a blanket, she realized, and knew Ash had been in to see her sometime during the night. At least she hoped it had been Ash. Thinking back on it now, she realized she had no idea whether he lived here alone or not.

But the text..._Mew_. She'd stayed up most of the night deciphering what looked remarkably like an Alakazam's script. Literate Alakazam were rare, but one of her old teachers—she couldn't remember his name; it'd been some years ago—had shown her a torn leaf covered in something nearly identical to the writing in the dozens of books stacked around Ash's room. He'd told her his own Master's Alakazam had written it many years before, for educational purposes.

She'd tried until her eyes hurt, but she couldn't make anything of it. The pictures had been what held her interest; nearly all of them seemed to depict the same ancient War that had decided the current status of humans and Pokémon all over the world. The style and technique was foreign to Misty; they were all black and white and drawn in what looked like ink, but smelled like burned wood. She couldn't tell if the scent was from the ancient pages or the text itself.

She'd passed out on top of a two-page spread of the final throes of the last battle, in which the angels and demons had come to a tentative agreement regarding the earth. Squinting at it in the dim light, Misty realized why it had held her interest for so long; instead of humans versus Pokémon, as she'd been led to believe, this picture displayed both species on both sides. Even a few Elementals, those rare, freakish humans that possessed a Pokémon's elemental power, were scattered among the clouds and if she squinted hard enough she thought she could see people under the earth.

But that wasn't right. That wasn't what she had been _taught_. It was always humans against Pokémon, angels against demons. That was why Pokémon served people and not the other way around. That was why the world was the way it was. The sides couldn't have been mixed; that made no _sense_. Angels had helped to put the Pokémon down; humans had helped to put the demons down. Pokémon had served mankind ever since. Elementals were half-demon, half human; there were no angel-human mixes. So why had this picture been drawn?

She realized with vague interest that her stomach was growling. What time was it? There were no windows this far underground, and the soft, flickering light that issued from one of the four grooves in the wall was anything but natural. She frowned. Ash wouldn't have let her sleep through her class, would he? Or _would_ he?

Panic gripped her at the thought. She could _not _afford to miss class, not when she was so close to graduating. Every one counted; every one was crammed with Pokémon health and Battle information that she simply couldn't afford not to know. And where was Ash, anyway? Not in here, obviously, and this was his room...Did he expect her to just sit in here and wait for him to remember her?

Well she couldn't do that. Even if she had hours until her class, she'd like to get her Pokémon fed, herself fed, and...Mew, when was the last time she showered? She had things to do, and she definitely had things to discuss. She didn't care how much Ash wriggled; she was going to wring information out of him about all those books if she had to shackle him to a wall to do it.

The light was dim, but just bright enough for her to make out the stacks of things scattered about the floor. She guessed the dark blotch on the wall was the door; she was right. The light in the next room blinded her momentarily, and she had to shield her eyes with her arm until they could adjust.

Ash was sprawled out over the length of a couch facing away from her; she could see his gloved hand draped over the back. When she peeked around it she saw that he had fallen asleep reading; a large book, much like the ones in his room, rested on his chest, his hand still clutching it loosely even in sleep. His sunglasses were askew on his face again, shoved up almost vertical by the arm of the couch. Their grip around his ear was tentative at best, and Misty had the wild urge to slip them off his face altogether. She was tired of the way he always seemed to hide behind them, and while she was getting answers, well, she might as well figure out his damn eye color.

But oh, he looked cute when he slept, she realized a moment later. His face was unguarded for once, his expression lax and his hair more ruffled than usual. He was attractive in every way that Rudi wasn't. Where Rudi's hair was styled and flipped, Ash's stuck up shamelessly; where Rudi's skin was whole and perfect and tanned just right by his island sun, Ash's was chiseled by obvious activity and lightly scarred in more than a few places. She marveled at him for a moment, relishing in what could possibly be her only chance to see him like this, and wondered why she was so fascinated. Behind her a small voice broke the still silence.

"Pikachupi?"

Misty jumped; Ash jumped; the sunglasses lost their hold on his head and clattered to the floor. Misty turned to see Pikachu looking up at her curiously, a bit of gauze with a small red stain wrapped tightly around his right foreleg. She turned back and locked eyes with Ash—and froze.

Ash's sleep-blurred eyes widened considerably as the color in his face drained away. Misty stumbled back while he all but fell from the couch, desperate hands reaching for something on the floor. His fingers closed around the glasses and he tried shoving them back on his face, but one of the legs caught him viciously in the eye and he yanked them off again, cursing and rubbing the injury with his palm.

"Misty—gah, God dammit..."

"Pikachupi?"

Misty was shivering uncontrollably. She looked numbly down at the Pikachu pulling at her pant leg, then back at Ash as he opened and closed his eye experimentally, on all fours next to the couch. Her mind was oddly blank for a moment before a solid wave of terror washed though it and she bolted.

"Misty! Misty, wait!"

She heard a scuffle behind her, and more cursing. She didn't pause to look back. She didn't pause to think. All she could do was get herself as far away from this place as possible, as _soon_ as possible, or...Mew, she had to get _away_...

She had no idea where she was going. The rooms were all different and not easily confused, but she didn't recognize many of them and she had no idea which way to head for. Pokémon were scattered throughout them; they looked up at her, startled, as she passed. Misty barely noticed them. Dammit, one of these rooms had to be the _last_ room...

She turned a corner, found herself in a stone hallway lined with tapestries and thick carpets, and stumbled down a pair of stairs. Before she knew it she was knee-deep in black, icy water; she yelped and scrambled back out of it, only to collide with a pair of warm, callused hands.

"Misty, please, just wait and minute and I'll—"

"Get _away_ from me!"

The scream tore from her throat as she tore herself from his grasp, lurching through the next door she came across. She could feel him as much as hear him behind her.

"Please, Misty, just—"

"_Go away!_" There had to be some way to lose him, some way to put a little distance between them...

She heard a heavy sigh, and then the footsteps behind her stopped. She didn't. There was a light scrabbling sound then, and Misty heard a Pikachu protest something vehemently at the same time as Ash's voice said, "No, just...no. Stay here."

The room she was in went suddenly and very unexpectedly dark. Misty bit her lip to stifle a scream, then turned and scrambled into the room nearest her, the only one flooded with light. It went out an instant later, and another flared to life. It was all Misty could do to run fast enough to keep out of the shadows. Demons lived in shadows, she knew, and demons liked to hurt people...

Before she knew it her tennis shoes were slapping against cool stone instead of carpet and the air around her went unmistakably damp. She scarcely noticed. One of the grooves in the wall to her right suddenly flashed bright yellow. Misty shuddered as she thought of what was powering it, but pressed on anyway. Anything was better than—than _back there_...

After a while her lungs started to burn. She glanced behind her, but there was no one, at least that she could see. Was he following her? Or was he taking some sort of shortcut, waiting to spring out at her around some unexpected corner up ahead? Oh God, she really had no idea _what_ he was doing.

He played the part so well, she thought frantically, following the lit groove up some stairs and around a corner; she didn't dare abandon it for the darkness beyond. He acted so...so _human_, but he never told me...he was so careful not to tell me anything...

Mew, it all made sense now! The shadows, the secrets, the black...black_ everything_...He was an Elemental! An electric demon, who—who found pleasure in tricking ignorant humans into thinking him human and then...ugh, she couldn't even force herself to remember the gruesome stories she'd been told.

It all made sense, especially the sunglasses. God, _especially_ the sunglasses. How could she have been so stupid? Running around in the dark in _sunglasses_? What was she thinking? And the way those walls lit up under his touch...no _human_ could do that! And the Ponyta! A minion? What had he planned to do with it? Had he Trained it to sneak out of Misty's dorm in the middle of the night and catch something on fire? To destroy the Stadium? To kill someone?

The grey path in front of her shoes blurred, and Misty realized she was crying. He'd been _toying_ with her. All this time he'd been gaining her trust just so he could throw it back at her in the end and laugh. Elementals did it all the time; they loved toying with people's emotions and loyalties, loved to get close enough to them to hurt them where it could do the most damage and then _revel_ in it...

God, she'd been hanging out with a _demon_...

The grooves led her steadily up until she found herself facing a blank stone wall. She slid to a stop, the muscles in her legs trembling, sides heaving, and slammed the stone with her fist. No, not a dead end. It couldn't be. She couldn't go back now, not with that...that _thing_ down there waiting for her.

The electricity powering the grooves washed across the wall suddenly. Misty, startled, yanked her hands away and scrambled backwards, almost tripping over herself in her haste to get away from that...that _demon_ stuff. She watched as it covered the wall in a single thin sheet, and the wall began to...open. Misty wasted no time in scrambling through the hole it made as soon as her body would fit.

The light on the other side blinded her. She found herself fumbling against a wall of thick, scratchy carpet, and then she was in someone's arms, and they were her pushing her away frantically.

"What the—_you_!"

She blinked up into Gary Oak's startled blue eyes. She was still shivering from a combination of cold and fear.

"_Misty_? My God, what—"

"Rudi!"

Miraculously, Rudi was there, staring at her with a mixture of shock and disbelief. He opened his arms just before she threw herself into them, a puddle of so many mixed emotions that she couldn't even stand anymore.

Rudi's warm hand found its way to her hair and smoothed it down soothingly as his other rubbed up and down her back in gentle circular motions. "Misty, what's wrong? What are you doing here? And what—what _happened_ to you?"

"He's a—a _demon_," she managed to sob, and clutched him more tightly, wrinkling his expensive collar with her tears. She pulled back suddenly, her mind a mess. "I'm s-sorry, your shirt—"

He gently pushed her head back down again. "Shh, don't worry about the shirt. What's wrong? Who's a demon?"

"So he's finally revealed himself to you, has he?" Misty missed the glare Rudi shot in Gary's direction. Gary's only reply was to widen his smirk. "It's lucky you got away unscathed. Or did you? You were gone all night. I wonder what he could have done, to get you all riled up like this—"

"Shut up, Oak!" Rudi hissed, and tightened his grip around Misty, frowning. "Come on, I'll take you up to your dorm—" He was cut off by Misty's startled cry.

"N-no! He knows where my room is, he might c-come back for me..."

"I see." Rudi was quiet for a minute. Then, "Would you like to stay in my room? I guarantee he won't touch you in there."

"N-no, I can't...he'll come get me there, I know it..."

"I'll stay with you. Come on, you're pants are soaked and you look like you've run a marathon. Let's get you a bath and some clean clothes and away from this place, and then we'll see what we can do about _him_, all right?"

She shuddered, her sobs ebbing away in his comfortable embrace, and sniffled miserably. "Okay."

Rudi smiled warmly at her and kissed her forehead. "Okay."

**X**

Rudi was right; after a long soak in his enormous marble bathtub Misty felt much better. She thought she might have dozed for a while; she wasn't sure. When she finally climbed out at least an hour later she found a set of women's silk pajamas and a bathrobe waiting for her in the walk-in closet that connected the bathroom to Rudi's room. She pulled the smooth material over her skin slowly, relishing in the delicate feel as she tried to connect all the swirling dots in her head.

Ash was an Elemental. It explained everything, from the way he blended into shadow to his feverous fear of being seen by the headMasters. Misty guessed, by his affinity for Electric Types and the yellow light that lit the walls under the Stadium, that he was an Electric-Type, though he could be something else as well. She didn't know enough about Elementals to know if they could draw power from more than one element, as some Pokémon did.

Elementals were evil. They were half-demon and half-man, and they delighted in destroying lives. That much about them was in every tale. They were tricky and smart and they loved to tinker with humans. Every story was different though, and when Misty tried to compare them she realized they didn't really match up. No matter how she grouped them or how many categories she made, she couldn't find one to describe Ash.

He'd just seemed so_ sincere_, and her Totodile loved him. Elementals were said to work _with _Pokémon, having obtained control of the same life force, and no matter how hard she wracked her brain, Misty simply couldn't recall a tale of a Pokémon being tricked or brainwashed by one. They had been on the same side in the War; it would be like an angel tricking a human into something.

And then there was his mother, who had mentioned his father, who, Misty mused, was probably an Elemental. This made Misty pause. Elementals were cursed, as far as she knew; humans who had made deals with demi-god Pokémon. The traits of an Elemental certainly weren't genetic, so how could Ash have inherited it from his father? Unless by father Delia had simply meant that Ash had been _trained_ by him. But then, how did Delia fit in? Had she been tricked too? By who? And why?

Misty just couldn't piece it together.

A soft knock on the closet door caught her attention. "Misty? Are you finished? I have some soup out here, if you want it."

Misty found herself smiling. She gave her damp hair a final furious ruffle, then draped the towel around her neck and opened the door. Rudi was standing on the other side. He'd changed shirts; his new one seemed more appropriate for the coming winter than most of his other attire. It looked thicker, obviously not silk, and it wasn't open very far in the front. He offered her a smile.

"You look much better. Feel better?"

Misty was very aware of the fact that she was standing in front of him in her pajamas, and that he had been obligated to all but carry her up to his room, she had been so scared and confused before. She nodded, embarrassed, and her eyes found the tray of food over the queen bed.

"Good. Come eat, before it gets cold." He led her over to the bed and arranged it so that Misty could sit comfortably on the end, her tray in front of her. Rudi sat next to her in comfortable silence, his mind obviously gone as he stared out the large, sunny window. Misty frowned.

"What time is it?"

Rudi stared at her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not he should reply. Finally, he said, "A little after one."

Misty's spoon clanged against the bottom of her empty bowl. "_What_? My class—"

"Shh, calm down." Misty felt his arm sneak around her waist as he pulled her closer to him. "I contacted your Master and told her you wouldn't be coming."

"But—I need to—"

"You need to _rest_, Misty. You have circles under your eyes and your skin is pale." He was studying her face with a frown, concern in his teal eyes. Misty felt herself blush and looked down at her hands. Rudi's reached out with his other hand and covered hers with it, tightening his grip around her waist. "Will you tell me what happened?" he asked quietly.

Misty winced. She knew she should, but somehow revealing Ash to him just seemed..._wrong_. He was an Elemental, yes, she knew that for certain, but...

That picture she'd fallen asleep on in his room kept coming to mind. Elementals in the clouds and people under the earth. Did that mean...?

"You don't have to," Rudi continued after a moment's silence, "but I wish, Misty...if you had seen yourself down there, how terrified you looked...did he hurt you?"

Misty stiffened and Rudi, misinterpreting the gesture, tried to soothe her by rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked—"

"No, what..." Misty suddenly realized how odd it had been to run into him and Gary there, next to the tapestry that hid the entrance to the underground halls. "What were you doing there?" She looked up at him. He looked startled.

"Why—looking for you, of course. I went up to check on you last night and you weren't there. I've been up all night looking for you."

Misty was touched, but also suspicious. "But why..._there_?" Had he known about Ash all along? If so, did that mean he had lied to her when he said he didn't believe Gary?

Rudi was frowning. "It was a last resort. Oak said if you weren't in your rooms then the Ghost must have taken you, and he dragged me down to show me the mysterious hidden entrance to his secret lair. I didn't actually expect to _find_ you there." He paused for a moment, watching her eyes closely, and then said softly, "He was right, wasn't he?" When Misty looked away he let out his breath in a curse. "I should have known. Dammit. Those conniving headMasters; I knew they were hiding something about this place from me...Are you okay? Lugia, I should have paid more attention. Then maybe I could have stopped him before he kidnapped you—"

"He didn't—didn't _kidnap_ me..." Misty rested her head against his shoulder and tried to draw her thoughts together.

"Then what did he do?" Rudi breathed, and rested his chin on the top of her head. She could feel his throat work when he spoke. "Tell me, Misty."

And she told him. Everything.

**X**

Misty's throat was dry when she finished. She told Rudi everything she could remember about Ash, how sincere he'd been, how nice and thoughtful and cautious...

Rudi remained silent for the most part, only interrupting her to clarify things she'd mentioned earlier or accidentally glossed over. He fetched her a drink when he was sure she was done, and watched her thoughtfully afterwards, a light frown on his face. Misty was shivering with curiosity over what he made of Ash; he'd only offered her noncommittal grunts while she'd been talking. She asked him. He regarded her carefully for a moment before answering.

"I think...you're sure he's an Elemental?"

Misty nodded. "I saw his eyes, Rudi. They were..._swirly_, like really swirling, all yellow and black and brown."

"Brown? Is he a Ground-Type, too?"

"I don't think so, but...I don't know. But Rudi, I just...I can't convince myself he's dangerous. He was so nice to me for so long. He could have hurt me at any time, especially last night, and he just...didn't. Maybe...You know more about those old stories than I do. Is it possible Elementals aren't all evil?"

"I don't know. Not that I've heard, but then I certainly haven't heard _everything_. Are you sure he wasn't tricking you the entire time? Trying to get you to trust so he could, I don't know, _manipulate_ you somehow?"

Misty contemplated his question for a moment, then sighed heavily, allowing Rudi to hold her close as she made herself comfortable in his arms. "No," she said softly, and realized she meant it. "No, I think he...he's never once made me doubt him, and he's always been there to help me when I needed him. And then why would he help my Pokémon so much, or even save me from that Ariados to begin with? I think...I think he's lonely living all the way down there, and he just wanted a friend or someone to talk to, and I..."

Misty's gut wrenched. She felt horrible for the way she had bolted, the way she had screamed at him when he tried to calm her down. She remembered the way he'd jerked away from her as if burned by her words, and the way he'd held Pikachu back, and the way he'd lit up the tunnels for her so she could find her way back...

She also remembered that shy smile she'd finally been able to coax out of him after over two weeks of Battling in Arena Five with Pikachu there, and the way he seemed to squirm inside his dark clothing every time she asked a question he didn't want to answer, and the peaceful way his face relaxed when he slept...

She wanted to cry. What if Rudi had acted that way to _her_, after discovering his parents had died because of what hers had done? How would she feel if he were to shove her away right now and scream at her for something she'd never even had any control over—

No more than Ash had, she realized as her throat started to burn. Delia has as much as told her he'd been born the way he was, had hinted that he got it from his father—and _Mew_, what had that poor woman gone through trying to raise Ash without letting anyone know what he was? _Who_ he was? Misty thought back to all the things Ash had said without saying. Whatever he was—Elemental or something else entirely, something good and not-demon—he wasn't the first. He was only twenty-two, for Mew's sake; he could never have built all those tunnels or even furnished those underground chambers alone. But he _was_ alone, in every sense of the word. Misty wondered what Delia had meant when she'd said he'd revealed himself before. Had he been rejected like this before, too? Was that how Gary knew so much about him? Because people had gone to him with information after they realized what he was?

"You're trembling." Rudi rubbed her back soothingly and leaned down to meet her eyes. "You look a mess. You should get some rest."

"What?" Misty sniffled away the tears that threatened to spill and tried to rub her eyes dry. "It's not even night time yet. I'm not tired—"

"It'll be dark in another hour or so."

"But it's October, it always gets dark early—"

"Misty, look at me." he gently raised her chin with his thumb so that their eyes were level. "You've been through a lot in a short amount of time, not to mention all those weeks you spent keeping this Elemental a secret from everyone, and with your classes piling up and all...you need rest. You can catch up with everything again tomorrow, but tonight I want you to turn in early and just _forget_ everything for a while. I'll talk to your Masters for you. You go to sleep."

"I'm not tired," Misty protested, but she knew it was a lie. She was _exhausted_. Rudi seemed to know it too, because he smiled and kissed her softly before rising from the edge of the bed and drawing the shades.

"Take my bed for tonight; it's much more comfortable than those old twin cots. I'll be back to check on you later."

Misty was startled. "Back? Where are you going?"

Rudi smiled at her, and helped her under the mass of thick sheets. His soft red hair brushed her cheeks as he leaned over for a final quick kiss before standing again. "I have a few things to attend to, now that you're safe and sound. Don't worry, I won't be gone long; I'll spend the night in the room right next door, all right? I'll be turning in soon too; I didn't sleep at all last night."

Misty blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't think—"

"It's not your fault, and I don't blame you. Goodnight, Mist."

"Goodnight. And...Rudi?"

He paused in the act of opening the door, turned to look back at her. "Hmm?"

"Um, thank you. For...everything."

He flicked the light off, and she thought she could see him smiling in the light from the room beyond. "I'm glad to be able to help, Misty. 'Night."

"'Night."

**X**

Rudi pulled the door closed behind him with a soft click, then turned to regard the three people watching him from the couches and chairs scattered around the comfortable sitting room he'd just entered. Gary was the first to stand. "Well?"

Rudi sighed and rubbed his forehead. He had to grit his teeth to keep from biting out an insulting retort regarding Gary's impertinent tone. "She's met him, all right. Several times, over the course of several months. She thinks he's harmless."

Gary snorted while Jesse and James exchanged glances from their respective overstuffed chairs. "Harmless, huh?" Gary smirked. "Hasn't she figured out yet what he is?"

"She says she saw his eyes."

This gave Gary pause; even he hadn't seen Ash without those precious sunglasses glued to the bridge of his nose. He forced himself to sound nonchalant. "And?"

"Swirls. Yellow, black, and brown, I think." He paused, looking pained as he spoke his next words. "Oak, is there any way he could have, you know..."

Gary raised his eyebrows. "Hurt her? Of course. He's an Elemental, isn't he?"

"But she thinks of him as a friend. And he's been so nice to her—"

"Of course he has. Got her to trust him enough to take in one of his minions, didn't he? To follow him all the way down to his lair, where no one can hear her scream?"

"But he let her out again, Oak. He didn't have to."

"Sure he did. If he hadn't, we would have come down after him. He knows that. The only reason the headMasters haven't flushed him out already is because it would cost too much to explore all those tunnels, and they don't have enough incentive yet. But if one of their students were to disappear..."

Rudi sank into the chair nearest the door and tried to mentally dull the headache building up in the back of his skull. "Then why hasn't he done...whatever it is he plans to do? He's had more than ample opportunity. Why not just—just hurt her and be done with it?"

"Oh, he'll do much more than just hurt her, to be sure." Gary continued ruthlessly when Rudi's frown deepened. "He'll want to get his time's worth, of course. And he'll find it much more enjoyable if _she_ comes to _him_. He'll probably lure her somewhere familiar through guilt or curiosity—where was it they liked to meet?"

Rudi sighed heavily. "Oh...Arena Five, I think she said." Gary's eyes flashed, and he motioned for Jesse and James to make for the door. Rudi watched them wearily, obviously exhausted after his frantic search for that ignorant Waterflower wench. "Where are you going?"

"To report. Take a nap, for Mew's sake; the headMasters will want the full story from you after dinner, and you look horrible."

Rudi was rubbing his eyes. "I don't know if it's my place to give it to them," he said slowly, and frowned when Gary moved to let himself out.

"I'm not sure it even matters anymore, _Mister_ Trovita," he said with a smirk, and then disappeared as the elegant wooden door clicked shut behind him.

**X**


	9. A Visit to Box Five

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act ii Stage iv**

_A Visit to Box 5_

_M__isty didn't sleep well._

By the cool glint of the light peeking in through the window it wasn't quite dawn when she awoke. She groaned and rolled over, curling up in a tight ball to try and keep as much body warmth near her as she could. Rudi's bed was large enough to remain perpetually cold; she didn't like it.

Her legs ached. As soon as she remembered why, her chest began to ache. She groaned and rolled over again, trying to shove the guilt from her mind and go back to sleep, but a quick mental calculation told her she'd already slept—albeit fitfully—far longer than she usually did. She sighed, then yawned and stretched, the cold sheets jolting her back to consciousness much more effectively than any amount of blinking could. Guh, October. She _hated_ the cold.

Was she really going to pull herself out of bed at six in the morning? What day was it? She actually had to recount past events to remember. Wednesday? Then her first class wasn't until eleven. She didn't know what she could do for five hours. Feed and work out her team, maybe; they hadn't been out since Monday evening. Find some breakfast. Catch up on homework.

_Apologize to Ash._

Misty was certain that thought hadn't come from her own mind, but now that it was there it refused to leave again. She felt guilt overtake her again as she remembered the way she'd treated him. Like a _monster_, like something subhuman, and after everything he'd done for her. She felt horrible.

She did owe him an apology, she acknowledged ruefully. She wasn't an apologetic type of person—when she was wrong she simply admitted it, case closed—but after the way she had acted...Yes, Ash definitely deserved an apology. A good one.

The room was no warmer than the sheets, and the lush carpet felt cool beneath her bare feet. She wanted socks—thick ones, preferably made of wool. A quick scan of Rudi's bathroom revealed that her clothes from the day before had vanished, but she wasn't particularly worried. Rudi's suite was six floors above her skimpy dorm, but the elevator was near and she was fairly certain she wouldn't run into anyone so early. She could grab some clothes from her room and then...and then...

_Find Ash_.

She supposed she could. She'd be damned if she knew where to look, but based on past experience he seemed to know where to find her most of the time anyway. But was he still looking? She decided not to worry about it yet. She'd tame that Dragonite when she captured it.

**X**

Rudi was startled awake by the soft click of a door closing.

He peered at the clock he'd set up on the low table next to the couch and groaned. Only five-thirty? How long had he been asleep? How much longer did he have before he had to meet the headMasters for breakfast?

It took him a few moments of groggy thinking to remember what had woken him up in the first place. But that couldn't be; Misty was the only one in his rooms and she liked to sleep in. She wouldn't have been awake at this ungodly hour.

Unless she wasn't the one who had made that sound.

He jerked upright, suddenly wide awake. That—that—his sleep-drugged mind struggled to come up with the right term—that—_Phantom­!_ But no, he wouldn't dare. Not in Rudi's own territory, not with Rudi just scant feet away, only one room over.

And yet...it wouldn't hurt to check on her, would it?

He dragged himself out from under the dozen or so blankets he'd heaped on himself the night before and shivered in the early morning air. He'd forgotten to turn the heat up last night. Careless of him. He'd have to make sure he did that before he went back to sleep or Misty might wake up shivering.

He was careful to ease the door to her room open silently so as not to startle her, but a quick peek revealed that his bed, though rumpled, was definitely empty. He froze, his eyes widening and his stomach dropping. There were no signs of a struggle, but—

Gary's words rose unbidden to his mind: _He'll probably lure her somewhere familiar..._

He cursed, as foully and fluently as he could, and yanked open the door that led to the hallway. He looked up and down it frantically, but it was empty. She wasn't anywhere. His heart was beating madly.

_Arena Five_, he remembered suddenly, and nearly raced down the hall in his haste to get there. Ten steps away he remembered exactly what he was dealing with and cursed, then tore back to his room. He couldn't handle an Elemental alone, should this 'Ash' prove to be as dangerous as Gary thought. He needed backup.

As much as he hated to admit it, he needed Oak.

Who wasn't answering his cell phone.

**X**

The hallway outside Rudi's suite was even colder than the bed, and the carpet ended at the elevator. Misty danced from foot to foot as it descended, but it barely helped. Her floor had thin, scratchy carpet that was barely warmer than the elevator.

It wasn't until she reached her door that she realized she had no keys. She cursed.

"Pikachupi?"

Misty jumped, her eyes roving up and down the hallway in search of the source of that tiny voice. She finally located it just above her; Pikachu was dangling his tail down from the rafters, the only portion of him visible.

"Pikachu!" she whispered loudly. "Oh thank God, I was hoping I'd find you. Can you...Is Ash up there with you?"

Pikachu flipped around so that his tail was wrapped around the wooden beam and his head was low enough for her to see. "Chu, Pikachupi. Pikapi ka pikachu pi pikachu. Pikachu pika chu pi pika?" His chocolate eyes were roaming up and down her clothing, and Misty suddenly remembered why she had come down here in the first place.

"Oh, I um, I'm locked out. All my clothes are in there..."

Pikachu regarded her with a frown for a moment, then burst suddenly into angry chatter. Misty didn't have to fully understand his language to know what he was saying; he didn't like the way she had treated Ash, and he was letting her know it.

"I know," she interrupted guiltily. "I know, boy, and I'm sorry." He stopped, his eyes narrowed, and Misty hastened to explain herself. "I was scared at the time, and I had no idea that Ash was...different...like that. I freaked. I know I shouldn't have and I know I probably really hurt him when I ran away like that, and I know..." She trailed when the burning in her throat reached a level that prohibited her from speaking. Her chest started to ache again. She forced herself to meet the Pikachu's eyes, her own filling with tears. "I know what I did was wrong, and I hate it. I want to apologize to him. Please, can you tell me where to find him?"

Pikachu didn't move for a moment, and when he did it was with a relieved smile. "Pi pikachu, Pikachupi. Pika pika." He rolled up into the darkness and disappeared. A moment later Misty heard a soft scrabbling sound on the other side of her door. When she tried the knob experimentally it opened easily, and she saw Pikachu hanging from the doorknob on the other side. She stared.

"You get in my room from the rafters? Exactly how big is that hole?" Her heart was fluttering wildly. _Ash_ had never come in from up there, had he? Or—or _sat_ up there without her knowing?

The mouse grinned devilishly and dropped to the floor, where he immediately padded between her legs and out the door. "Pika pika chu pi, Pikachupi. Pikapi pi pika chu pika chu ka." He glanced at her once more, then scrabbled up the wall and out of sight.

Misty slipped into her room gratefully, closing the door behind her. Arena Five again. That worked. She didn't know exactly what she was going to say to him, but anything was better than nothing, and she really did want him to know that she was ashamed of her actions. Elemental or no, he'd been nothing but good to her for months now, and she'd thrown it back in his face like a stupid child. He hadn't deserved that, and she should have known better.

She threw on some old Training clothes as quickly as she could, pausing when she reached for the 'Belt that normally rested on her nightstand. Dammit. She'd left it in Rudi's place. Yet again, her hips felt cold and naked without its familiar weighty warmth. But she didn't dare go back up there now; she didn't want to wake him up, and Ash might already be waiting for her. Sighing at her own stupidity—how could a _Pokémon_ Trainer keep forgetting her _PokéBelt_?—she briefly hesitated over whether or not she should lock the door, then decided she'd rather return to Rudi for her keys than have something stolen.

Arena Five was dark when she got there, and the door squeaked ominously when she pushed it open. A cold shiver rolled through her and she realized that she was afraid.

No, she told herself firmly, not afraid. _Apprehensive_. She was only going to see Ash, and there was nothing scary in that. Even if he was an Elemental, he'd made it obvious to her that he intended no harm, and she was going to prove to him that that..._part_ of him was all right by her. Still, she couldn't suppress a shudder when she reached along the wall in the pitch black to find the light switch.

The room was empty. Somehow that was scarier than anything else she could come up with.

"Um, Ash?" Her voice sounded small and weak in the large arena. She cleared it nervously and forced herself to take a few steps inside, though she was clutching her arms tightly as she did so. It was cold in here, too. "Ash, are you in here? Pikachu?"

"I'm here."

Misty nearly fell over. Ash's voice was soft and cheerless and it came from somewhere above her. She clutched her pounding heart in shock, ordering herself to calm down.

"Will you come down? I want to talk to you." Once again, his silhouette was blurred by the bare lightbulb's glare. She had no idea where he was.

"Why?" he asked flatly. "I can hear you fine from up here."

"But I can't see you. I don't like it."

He laughed, low and harsh and lacking warmth and humor. Misty's brow creased. She couldn't blame him if he was mad at her. It was actually nice of him to have come at all.

"You don't want to see me," he said in an accusatory tone. "That's the last thing you want."

"No it isn't, Ash," she said firmly, and shielded her eyes in an attempt to pinpoint his exact location. "I want to—"

"You don't have to lie to me, Misty." His voice had lost that harsh edge, though it was obvious to Misty that he was struggling to keep it strong. "I don't blame you. I knew this would happen sooner or later, that you would find out and that would be the end of it. I'm actually surprised it lasted so long."

"Well I'm not, Ash!" Misty protested loudly, though she knew she really was. That was a large thing to keep a secret. "And I'm glad it happened. Now I know, and we can be _better_ friends. It doesn't have to end like this—"

"Yes it does," Ash cut her off. "It always does. I don't want you to force yourself to hang around me out of pity, and I don't want you to lie to make me feel better. Let it go. Don't tell anyone about me and I'll call it even."

"God dammit, Ash, I don't _want_ to let it go!" Misty found herself choking back angry, frightened tears. She didn't want it to end like this. She didn't want to never be able to see him again. "I didn't come to see you out of pity or—or some vague obligatory duty. I came here to _apologize_. I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I'm sorry I ran away. I'm sorry I screamed at you, and shoved you, and—oh hell, Ash, I'm sorry I doubted you, even for one minute! It was stupid and childish of me, and I feel horrible for it. You've done nothing but help me for months now; one little...little _thing_ shouldn't be enough to just...just _rip us apart_ like this. You're my _friend_, Ash, and I want to be yours, and I don't care about...about..."

She was really crying now, and she hated it, but she didn't know what else to do. She wasn't one of those girls who randomly burst into tears, but her emotions had been so out of sync in the last few days that now that she'd started again, she couldn't seem to stop. She'd probably cried more today and yesterday than she had since her parents died.

Above her Ash was silent. Misty struggled to control herself, wondering if she'd frightened him away, and angrily wiped at the tears in her eyes. "Please come down, Ash," she pleaded weakly, hoping he could still here her. There was a pause and the lightest of shuffles and then he was there, lowering himself down into a crouch on the low arena wall as he studied her guardedly. His sunglasses were back, and Misty briefly wondered if wearing them in the dark affected his vision or if his Elemental powers allowed him to see normally anyway. At least she knew why they were there now. She offered him a tentative smile, sniffling as she wiped away the last of her tears.

"Thank you," she said softly, and he looked at the floor. It was obvious he was nervous. Misty was too.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," he said quietly, and hesitated. Misty watched him in confusion. What did he mean by that? She was the one who had acted like an impulsive idiot. "I should have told you a long time ago," he continued ruefully, "instead of tricking you into accepting me like a normal—"

"You didn't trick me," Misty interrupted forcefully. "I—"

A muffled thud from behind her made her jump. Ash, startled, immediately sank into the thick shadows that coated the back of the arena—only to be knocked roughly out again an instant later. He landed on all fours and quickly rolled to his feet, hand over his PokéBelt as he searched the shadows for any sign of movement. A Ghastly's face appeared in the gloom, grinning, and Misty saw Ash noticeably pale.

Before she could react a large shape darted past her and tackled him from behind. Ash cried out in surprise and fell beneath its weight, electricity sparking to life all around him. There was a cry from the rafters and then Pikachu was there, fangs bared as he went for the creatures eyes. It took a moment for Ash to throw it off—a Sandslash, Misty realized with a start—and a voice just behind her kept it from darting back in.

"Stay back, girl. We've got him right where we want him."

Ash looked up from his crouch, panting as a thin trickle of blood seeped from a cut hidden beneath his hairline, and hissed angrily, "_You_—"

Gary stood beside Misty, smirking as he fingered a Pokéball. Misty stumbled away from him in surprise, but his hand darted out and caught her arm, squeezing it painfully as he dragged her back to him. He met her eyes evenly, one eyebrow arched. "Not planning to leave, are you? Not before I've thanked you, please. I never could have gotten him out of those damned rafters without you. And all that information..." He clucked at her mockingly, then turned to Ash. "Arena Five, eh? I expected some place a little more..._primitive_. Never would have guessed if she hadn't told me. Again, Miss Waterflower, you have my gratitude."

Misty gaped at him, her mind caught on his words, then numbly turned to Ash. He didn't believe him, did he? He had to know that Misty would never turn him in. _Didn't_ he?

Ash's eyes were wide behind his glasses, his gaze on her. Then they narrowed and focused instead on Gary. An instant later he was back on the arena wall, reaching for the rafters, halfway up before the Ghastly materialized out of the shadows lining the back wall and shoved him down again. He landed catlike on his hands and toes beside Pikachu, who sparked defiantly when the Ghastly tried to approach. Gary chuckled, his grin now more of a sneer.

"Not so fast, Ash! You can't run away before my reinforcements arrive!"

The Sandslash barely flinched when Pikachu Shocked it. Ash had barely regained his feet when the Ground-Type arched a clawed paw and brought it down on the mouse, sending him flying toward Gary, who wasted no time in scooping him up. He turned and passed him to the pair who had just slipped into the arena—Jesse and James were there, panting, and they quickly stuffed him into a small ovular glass cage. Ash was furious.

"Pikachu! Dammit, Gary—"

He darted forward angrily, a blur in Misty's eyes, but was yanked abruptly back by a thick purplish coil that caught him around the middle. The Arbok, only just finished materializing from the 'Ball in Jesse's hand, twisted its tail tighter, pinning Ash's arms to his sides and squeezing a pained grunt from his lungs. By now his glasses were askew on his face, dangling freely from one ear, so Misty could see clearly how the yellow in his eyes swirled brightly until the darker colors were swamped, then sparked. Electricity flowed down around his body and into the Arbok's, which hissed angrily and released him. He managed to land awkwardly on his feet, steadied himself, and immediately darted toward Pikachu.

He was stopped by a soft click, eerily audible in the cold room. Gary held Pikachu's glass cage in his left hand while he leveled a gun at it with his right. Misty's stomach dropped at the sight of the weapon as her heartbeat quickened exponentially. Guns were _illegal_ in the Stadium! What did he think he was doing, aiming one at a Pokémon like that?

"I wouldn't move if I were you, Ash," he said with a cocky grin. Ash hadn't, his swirling gaze fixed heatedly on Gary as he strengthened his stance in the arena's thin dirt floor, sunglasses crushed and forgotten at his feet. The yellow swirled over the black and brown suddenly, sparking.

"Eh, eh, eh, Ash," said Gary loudly. He shifted the container into a more comfortable position under his arm. "This cage is Electric-proof, not bullet-proof. Care to test it?" He angled the pistol to point at Pikachu's head. The mouse bared his teeth and flashed bright yellow, but the Attack couldn't make it through the treated glass.

Ash cursed and released his electricity. It cackled and fizzled out around him while Gary watched, his grin widening.

"There now. I knew you'd see sense if it was beaten into you hard enough. Now let the nice security 'cuff you and your precious rat will keep its adorable little head in tact for one more day. There's a good boy..."

There was a metallic click as James unhooked a set of handcuffs from his security belt, then cautiously approached Ash with Jesse at his side. They looked nervous under Ash's furious gaze, his eyes swirling faster than Misty thought they had before. Ash's only response was to take a wary step back from them, which made them pause. His eyes flickered over Gary, who was clearly enjoying himself, and Pikachu, who was scratching madly at his glass prison, then fixed angrily on the floor. Jesse and James exchanged glances before hurrying behind him. Jesse grabbed his shoulders and forced his arms back while James quickly clicked the handcuffs closed around his wrists. Misty was breathing heavily as she watched, one eye on Ash and the other on Gary, waiting for him to let his guard down. She'd done this somehow, she knew, and she'd be _damned_ if she wasn't going to undo it.

She was distracted when Ash sparked again, but this time his eyes were almost entirely black and they didn't glow. He cried out and collapsed, shivering violently as jagged lines of electricity crackled over him in waves, then seemed to shrink back into the handcuffs. He was panting when James knelt beside him, one knee pressed lightly against his back as a warning.

"Much better," Gary said with a sniff, then raised the gun and pointed it at Misty. She froze, shocked, and Gary smiled. "I'm not stupid, Miss Waterflower. You've just witnessed what I can do to Mr. Elemental here if you—or him—tries anything heroic." He swung his gaze to Ash, who looked visibly paler. "That was a bit of negative current, Sir Phantom. It attaches itself to your positive charge and nullifies it—_drains_ it, if you will. And we're all aware of that happy little problem that arises when Elementals are drained of their Element now, don't we?" Misty's eyes widened. Pikachu stopped struggling to claw his way through the glass and stared at Ash, ears lowered in fear.

There was a clatter of hurried footsteps in the hall. An instant later Rudi burst through the door, followed by the headMasters. They skidded to a stop just inside the arena. Rudi's frantic gaze swept once throughout the room before he dashed to Misty's side, his hand swiping away the gun that Gary was still leveling at her.

"What do you think you're doing, Oak?" he barked. An unusually large group of guards, armed with firearms and Pokémon, were shuffling through the door and quickly filling the room, though none of them dared come within five feet of Ash. Misty was stunned. What was going on? What were all these people doing here? How did they know Ash was here? And what exactly did they plan to do with him?

Icy fear swept through Misty as she remembered what Delia had told her. But they couldn't...they wouldn't..._kill_ him, would they?

Gary's voice took on a lazy tone as he addressed Rudi. "Merely securing my charge, Trovita. Take your precious girlfriend out of harm's evil way if you want. I'm quite done with her."

Rudi glared at him, but didn't hesitate in taking a step back and wrapping an arm around Misty's waist. Misty had to stop herself from flinching away. It took her a moment to figure out why, and with the realization came a wave of betrayed rage.

She'd only told one person that she and Ash met in Arena Five, so only one person could have possibly told one _other_ person where to find him. Where to wait for him. Where to lay a trap.

Giovanni and Koga were watching Ash uneasily, as if worried he would attack them from the floor. Gary had to assure them that the Elemental was securely bound before they would actually approach him—he spat Ash's name out like a dirty word, and the headMasters treated it as such. Misty wanted to slap him. She was so angry for his tricks and his cheating ways that she was shaking with rage and indignation. Rudi mistook it for frightened shivering. He tried to draw her closer, murmuring reassurances into her ear like she was a frightened child, but she refused to let him. It didn't seem right to be coddle with her boyfriend—if that's what Rudi really was—while Ash lie panting in the dirt, especially if that boyfriend was the reason Ash was trapped. It didn't seem right for another, more foreign reason as well, but Misty didn't have the time to contemplate that now.

"You actually did it, Oak," Koga murmured, sounding awed. "Mew, you've actually done it! An _Elemental_, really! I don't think one's been captured alive in—in—"

"Not in centuries," Giovanni finished for him, crouching a foot in front of Ash with his chin in his hand. "It's rumored they're extinct. I expected some crazy old fool, not a—Mew, he's nothing more than a kid. A freak kid. He'll live for _years_ yet. Koga, we could make millions with this!"

Koga's eyes lit up. He crouched beside his partner and the pair exchanged fevered whispers for a few moments. Misty made to approach them, determined to explain to them that Ash was a _person_, not some ancient evil to be auctioned off or ogled at, but Rudi's hands on her shoulders pulled her back. She whirled to face him, whispering heatedly, "What are you _doing_? We have to help him!"

Rudi's grip remained firm, his face set. "Misty, stay here. He's bewitched you somehow."

Misty stared at him incredulously. "What are you..._what_? No! Don't be stupid! Now let me go, I have to help him—"

"No, Misty...I said _no_." He forced her back to him and held her close, meeting her livid aqua gaze with his own. "He's dangerous," he said flatly. "Stay here and let the headMasters deal with him. You don't know what you're doing."

"Like hell I don't!" Misty hissed angrily, and tried to jerk away again. Her struggles drew the headMasters' attention and they turned to her, beaming.

"Miss Waterflower! I understand you were the one to lure him out?" Misty bit back a nasty comment. Before she could respond with something more suitable for the headMasters' ears, Giovanni cut her off. "Excellent work. You'll receive our highest recommendations, of course, and perhaps a few promotions, if all is in order?" He turned to Koga expectantly.

"Of course." Koga bowed to her. "You have our sincerest gratitude, Miss. Waterflower. You've rid this excellent establishment of a great blemish. We thank you."

"We do indeed," added Giovanni, joining him. When he stood again he turned to Ash. "And _you_. Not at all what we were expecting, given the stories, but it'll only make you that much easier to deal with. Your 'legend' here has lasted long enough, I think. Time to show the students exactly what they've been afraid of all these years. Take him away; you know what to do with him."

As they hauled Ash to his feet, Misty made another bid for freedom. This time Rudi wrapped both of his arms around her and covered her mouth with his hand. He leaned close to whisper furiously in her ear, "Would you _stop_ it? This is for the best, Misty! He's an Elemental. He _tricked_ you into believe he was good."

Misty wanted to kick him. Giovanni approached her curiously, frowning, while his guards and Jesse and James forced Ash out of the room behind him. Ash refused to meet Misty eyes as he was dragged past her, clothes dirtied and shoulders slumped. Misty felt a pang of apprehensive guilt shoot through her chest. This was all her fault. God, what had she done?

"Mr. Trovita? Is Miss Waterflower all right?" Giovanni stared as Misty ceased struggling and slumped in Rudi's arms, her eyes blank as she tried to think of some way to set things right again. Because Ash and Pikachu caught and caged like this just because of what they were...it was just _wrong_.

"Fine, sir," Rudi grunted, struggling to hold her up. Misty wanted to bite his hand. "She's just a little...confused right now. The Elemental's been toying with her for weeks now. Maybe even months."

Giovanni's eyes flashed with understanding. "Of course. Will she be all right, then?"

"Fine, given a little time. We're fine. Thank you."

His dismissal was obvious. Giovanni inclined his head slightly, then followed his partner and their men out the door. Misty could hear Gary's laugh echoing down the hall, taunting and arrogant as he knocked on Pikachu's cage in his hands.

"Looks like I finally won, _Sir Ghost_. Your counterfeit reign here is over!"

**X**


	10. Barrels, Barrels!

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act ii Stage v**

_Barrels, Barrels!_

_"T__his is ridiculous_."

Brock's complaints had grown more and more frequent as Misty led him through the cold, knee-deep water that was worked somehow out of the lake somewhere below them. A terrified Delia had told her about these tunnels, had explained how to get to Ash through them. Apparently his father had been caught once or twice some years before, and Delia doubted Gary would allow Ash to be held anywhere else. She'd insinuated that it was Gary Oak who was in charge of such things, which made Misty wonder exactly who controlled the Stadium itself. It seemed the Oaks held the actual power while the headMasters merely ran...what, public appearances? The actual Training and the Trainees? Misty was beginning to suspect there was much more going on behind the scenes than she'd ever imagined.

"I mean it, Misty," Brock continued. "This is absolutely ridiculous. I can't feel anything below my knees."

"Well think how Ash feels, then," she snapped, already on edge after hours of trying and failing to convince Rudi and the headMasters that she wasn't under any sort of Elemental spell or curse. Exhausted, exasperated, and locked into Rudi's suite, she had finally called Brock for help. It'd taken a lot of apologies; she knew she should have told him about Ash a long time ago, and didn't try to make excuses for herself when he'd questioned her about it, miffed. After explaining Ash's current predicament, however, he'd agreed to help, though he was obviously a little unnerved by everything. Misty didn't blame him. She'd known Ash for months, and she'd still reacted horribly when she learned what he was.

Brock was silent for a moment, his sloshing footsteps the only indication of his presence behind her. When he spoke again it was in a quiet, pleading voice. "Misty, are you sure we're doing the right thing here? I mean, this guy _is _an Elemental. I'm not sure we should just...break him out like this. What makes you think we even can?"

Misty sighed. Her brain felt like it had been pounded into a tiny ball in her head. "I don't know, Brock, but I need your help. I can't get him out of here alone."

"But he's an _Elemental_—"

"He's my _friend_, Brock. All those stories about Elementals are just—they're just _stories_. He's not evil or demonic or anything like they say he is. He's just..._human_."

"With a Pokémon's abilities?" Brock protested. "It's not right."

Misty thought about her answer before she replied. "In the ancient stories they use to say that Pokémon and humans were one. You know, before the War. Remember?"

"Of course."

"Well, Elementals must be, I dunno, their descendents or something. Why should that make them evil? The stories say that Elementals are demons, or people who sold their souls, or some other nonsense, but after reading those books Ash had in his room...now that I know what he is, I think they meant that Elementals are just the remnants of a society that once was, you know? It makes me question exactly what the War was over, if the winners have twisted everything else about it."

"But what if they're _not_ twisted, Misty? What if he really _is_ a demon?"

"Then he still deserves my help," said Misty firmly. "He's as good a friend to me as you are, Brock. If you knew him half as well as I do you wouldn't abandon him either."

"Well how do you even know this will work? I mean, where the hell _are_ we? And how would Delia Ketchum know anything about where we're going?"

Misty sighed. "I _told_ you, Brock, she's his mother. She took this route to get to his father once, a long time ago. Trust her; she knows what she's doing."

"So what, Elementalism or whatever is genetic? Misty, none of this makes any _sense_."

"I _know_, Brock! Mew, don't you think I _know_? I just found out all this stuff about him yesterday! I'm as confused as you are. But he's a good guy, and he just doesn't deserve whatever he'll get at the hands of Gary and the headMasters. They talked about him like he was subhuman. It was awful."

"I still don't know about this," Brock said dubiously. "But I guess he had plenty of opportunities to hurt you. You sure he won't like, attack us once we get him out? I mean, assuming we _can_ get him out, don't you think he'll be mad that you told me? I mean, look at what telling Rudi did for him."

Misty's heart lurched. _Rudi_. He'd been such a stubborn ass about the whole thing. Misguided overprotection at its worst.

"I think he'll understand," Misty replied after a moment. "At least, I hope he will. You're not like Rudi."

Brock didn't respond. Misty paused and looked at him questioningly when she felt his warm hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mist. I won't tell anyone about him, if we get him out. You have my word."

Misty placed her hand over his and rubbed it appreciatively. "I know, Brock. But thanks for saying it."

"No problem." Brock started forward again, but Misty stopped him. He peered back at her in the gloom, frowning. "What?"

"Shh. Listen. Do you hear that?" In the absence of their splashing footsteps Misty thought she could hear voices ahead of them.

"I think I do," Brock whispered a moment later. "Are we close?"

"I think so."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Sort of."

"Well you're one step ahead of me, then. What is it?"

Misty unclipped Totodile's 'Ball from her 'Belt and summoned him, attempting to keep the light hidden beneath her jacket. Brock blinked away spots before commenting.

"What are you going to do with him? Pretend he's a sewer alligator?"

"If it works," Misty answered seriously, and lowered him gently into the water. He cooed at her and immediately swam in a small circle to adjust to the cold, tiny body gliding fluidly along the surface of the water just like his more primitive relatives. Brock stared at him.

"You're kidding."

"You have a better idea?" When Brock didn't respond, she plowed on. "I think whoever they've got guarding him in here will be terrified enough of their charge to think rationally about the existence of sewer alligators. It could work."

Brock snorted. "Well what if it doesn't?"

"Well...I always have Gyarados."

Brock shook his head. "You're insane, Misty. This is never gonna work."

"Shut up. It might. Now come on—quietly."

Together they sloshed as silently as they could toward the voices, Totodile sliding smoothly through the water beside them. "You know," Brock whispered a short while later, "he actually is kinda creepy like that. I think he looks more like a fat snake than an alligator though."

"Well whatever works," Misty whispered back. "Here, I think this is far enough. Totodile, you know what I want you to do, right? Just lead them around in circles if they chase you. If they don't, chase them toward the entrance, okay? And whatever you do _don't let them catch you_. Understand?"

"Dile, totodile." When he grinned his pointed teeth flashed eerily in the dim light. Brock leaned forward and stopped him from swimming off.

"Wait. What if they come this way? There's no way they can miss us."

"We took the long way in. Hopefully they'll freak and run straight out of here or try to catch him, since Totodile are fairly rare. Either way, I've always got back-up." She unclipped Gyarados's 'Ball and held it up for him to see. He shook his head.

"This is all really, uncomfortably shaky. I don't like it."

"Me neither, but it's all I've got. Your Pokémon aren't any good down here, are they?"

"No, not for more than a few minutes. Still." He sighed. "Well, whatever. I'm in this now whether I like it or not. Go on, boy. Give it your best."

"Dile." Totodile flipped his tail once, then slithered off and rounded a corner. A moment later there was a clatter, a splash, and a man's surprised yelp.

"Lugia, Mew, and Celebi! What the hell is that?"

"Goddam, it scared me! The hell is it, a snake?"

"Naw, it's too fat to be a snake. Hey, doesn't it look sorta like a Totodile?"  
"Don't be stupid, Michael, ain't no wild Totodile in here."

"Well what else could it be?"

There was a pause, then a furious splash.

"Goddam! It _is_ a Totodile! C'mon, Butterfree, use your—"

"Hang on! What if it's a half-breed?"

"Then we'll kill it! HeadMasters'll like it if we get rid of one more for them. This place is crawling with the little monsters."

"Wait, what about this guy? You go chasin' off after that thing and you could get fired."

"Well you stay here and watch him, then. I'm gonna bag me a free Totodile!"

"What're you, crazy? You know how much those things go for on the market these days? I ain't sittin' here while you make six hundred bucks on somethin' _I_ saw first anyhow."

"Well we can't _both_ have it."

"We'll split the money, stupid. Fifty-fifty."

"Well what about him, then?"

"Aw, he ain't goin' nowhere, and Master Oak won't be down here till morning, at least. We can capture it and be back before anyone knows we're gone."

"What if he _does_ get out, though?"

"How? Look at him. 'Sides, this'll only take a few minutes. Lemme just grab my 'Belt here...All right, let's go."

"Where'd it go?"

"That way, see? You can see the light glinting off its scales. Come on..."

There was a loud sloshing sound that grew steadily louder. Brock and Misty held their breath, but the guards seemed to round some unseen corner because they didn't appear in the same passageway and their splashing slowly faded away. Misty prayed to Mew that Totodile would make it away from them okay.

"Well that was unnaturally easy," Brock whispered. "What now?"

"We've got to get Ash out. He must be right here, if those were his guards."

"Again, unnaturally easy. Am I the only one seeing a pattern here?" Though he continued to protest, he followed Misty through the water and around the corner. They found themselves in a hall with branches all along their left side and a wide, dark hollow across from the guard's station, which consisted of a raised platform with an inexpensive wooden table and two chairs on it, as well as a stack of books, some playing cards, a crumpled pack of cigarettes, and some opened sodas. A jacket was draped over one of the chairs; Misty recognized it as part of a regular security guard's uniform. Nothing special, then, if the men decided to come back before they'd made their escape. Security guards didn't carry any weapons other than their Pokémon, and they weren't specially trained in anything Misty couldn't handle. But why such minimum security for someone they obviously thought posed an enormous threat?

"Is that it?" Brock was peering under his hand through the light that illuminated the desk. He shook his head. "This is way too easy, Misty. I don't like it at all."

"Come on, I think it's across from the desk," Misty replied, ignoring his words even as the same sense of unease flooded throughout her own body. She trudged through the water to the platform, shivering in the cold, and froze when she rounded the corner. Brock sloshed up beside her and froze as well. Misty could hear him suck in his breath with a hiss.

Thick floor-to-ceiling rubber bars began a foot or so in, walling off a small room about fifteen feet deep and ten wide. Ash was leaning against the back wall, hunched and soaked through with icy water, his hands still cuffed behind his back. His eyes widened when he saw Misty, then narrowed as Brock came into view. He was shivering violently, his eyes completely black and his skin clammy and pale. The word _demon_ was scratched into the stone above his head, alongside a few other words in a language Misty didn't recognize.

"W-what do _you_ want?" he demanded, scowling and glaring furiously. His voice rose and fell with his shudders. Misty's chest ached as she wrapped her fingers around the damp bars and stared at him, at how frail he looked. How much had they drained him before dumping him in here? Enough to prevent so much water from shot-circuiting him? _Could_ he short-circuit?

"We're here to help you," Misty answered as sincerely as she could, well aware of how much Ash probably hated her right now. Brock was silent beside her, though she could hear his breathing pick up. "Please let us help you, we don't have much time, and this water is—it's _killing_ you, isn't it?"

"W-what do _you_ care?" Ash spat out, and stiffened as a violent shudder rolled through him. "You're just like the rest. You—" He gasped and jerked suddenly, like he was undergoing a small seizure. Misty cried out for him, watching helplessly as a short burst of electricity ran over his body and through the water, making Misty's already numb calves tingle unpleasantly. When it was done he slumped limply and panted, head hung weakly.

"Ash, listen to me," Misty pleaded desperately. "My Totodile's distracting your guards, but only for a little while. We have to get you out of here _now_, or—"

"Or what?" Ash interrupted, his voice harsh. "This is how my father went, you know. Just like this. All this damned water...ugh." He groaned and slouched against the wall. "Water...And you...you _people_." He spat the word out like a curse. "Mew, I'd hoped to be at least his age when I went, but since when has what I want mattered? Mom'll be sad for a while, but she'll get over it, just like she got over Dad..." He chuckled, then coughed, then chuckled again, though his grin lacked any trace of warmth or humor. "Drowned. Drowned! Didn't even have the decency to let him short himself out. Oh no..." Another seizure-like shudder wracked his body and a crackle of energy popped over him. Misty was terrified for him; he looked delirious, and the water was only making him worse. If they didn't get him out of it soon...

"He's not gonna make it," Brock said quietly. "Misty, look at him. He'll never...Mew. He's never gonna make it."

"I'm not just going to give up, Brock," Misty whispered forcefully, her mind on how soon the guards would be returning to their post, Totodile or no. Her pinkish-white knuckles gripped the bars painfully tight.

"I know," Brock agreed, "me neither. But that water...I can't _carry_ him out, you know."

"I know. Maybe..."

"What?"

"Haraia..."

"No way. Her legs are way too short. She'll go out immediately, and she'll never be able to support him."

"Well what, then? Gyarados is too big to move through the passages, all of my other Pokémon are too small, and yours won't last more than a few minutes."

Before Brock could respond there was a flash and a loud, fearful whinny as Haraia appeared on the other side of the bars. At the same time Ash yelped and fell to his knees, barely able to keep his drooping head above the water as another wave of electricity cracked and popped all around him. Misty felt it rush through her soaked jeans with barely more than a distracted shudder.

"Haraia, what are you _doing_?" she cried, terrified for the Fire-Type. The water came up to her underbelly; the flames on her legs and tail were completely submerged, and she was smoking. Haraia whinnied again and reared, her rolling, frightened eyes on Ash. Then there was a blinding flash that made Misty look away. When her eyes adjusted to the light she openly gaped; Haraia's horn was growing.

"Mew, she's Evolving!" Brock gasped. "Can she do that? How can she do that?"

Misty was just as surprised; she had no idea Haraia was at so high a Level. But Evolving below the required Level through willpower alone was nearly impossible...

A moment later she stood at at least sixteen hands, if Misty remembered horse-heights correctly. The bottom of her nose was level with Misty's chin, which was a huge difference from just a few minutes ago, when the top of her head had scarcely brushed Misty's waist. Now only the flames around her hooves and knees were submerged. Haraia snorted when the tip of her tail brushed the water's surface and flicked it out of harm's way, then approached Ash and nudged his head out of the water with her nose. She snorted into his mussed hair and he looked up at her blearily, black eyes glazed.

"Haraia? What..." His head threatened to droop again. Haraia snorted worriedly and nudged him backwards so that his back was resting against the wall, then turned to an astonished Brock and Misty and bared her teeth with a high-pitched whinny, startling them both out of their stupor. Brock immediately went for his 'Belt.

"What are you doing?"

"These rubber bars are made for Electrics. Geodude should be able to break them, or at least bend them."

"Hurry, then." Misty glanced anxiously down the passageway as Brock and Geodude went to work. There was a grunt and a loud snap and Geodude backed away from the bars with the remains of two in his hand. He'd created a gap large enough for Haraia to slip through. Misty immediately rushed inside with Brock hot on her heels.

Ash's skin was cool to the touch, and a jolt of fear swept through Misty as she saw how unevenly he was breathing. It was quickly followed by a small electric shock that made her flinch. He really didn't have much time. Did Gary want him to die in here? Didn't he have any idea what effect water could have on certain Electric-Types? Or had he actually planned it this way?

"Help me lift him onto Haraia," Brock instructed, and hefted him up into a half-standing position, pausing only long enough to shudder as Ash unintentionally shocked him. Ash watched him through half-lidded eyes, making no move to object. Misty took him by the other arm, Haraia crouched, and together the three managed to heave him onto the Rapidash's back, though he nearly slipped off the other side again as soon as he was up. Misty held him in place as he shifted, obviously uncomfortable.

"The handcuffs," Brock panted, shirt soaked from Ash's waterlogged jacket. "Geodude, can you...?"

Geodude made his way behind Ash, gently took the tiny 'cuffs in his large, stony hands, and _pinched_. The chain broke in two between his fingers, and Ash's arms swung down to weakly grip Haraia's sides, his wrists red and a little swollen under his dripping bandages. Haraia took one step toward the bars and immediately halted when Ash threatened to slide off her back again. He was only grasping at a thin strand consciousness now, and was clearly unable to hold himself up.

"Get up there with him," Brock instructed. Misty nodded and accepted his boost up, settling onto Haraia's back right in front of him. Brock arranged him so that he was leaning against Misty's back, his arms in her lap in case he began to fall again.

"Is this all right?" she asked Haraia. "Is this too much for you?" Haraia snorted and shook out her crackling mane, which Misty took as a no. She nudged Ash with her shoulder. "Are you okay, or do you want to sit in front of me?" His only response was to eye her wearily and grunt something inaudible. Misty asked him to repeat it.

"I'm okay," he grumbled, and leaned his head against her shoulder. "Just go. Please, just—go." He shivered and Misty felt another electric pulse pop through her. Ash grunted. "Sorry."

"It's okay, it doesn't hurt," Misty lied. "Hold on, okay? Tighter." She felt a thrill go through her as he wrapped weak, trembling arms around her waist. She wondered briefly if it was because he was an Elemental, or because he was _Ash_. A moment later Haraia jerked as she started slowly forward. Brock walked through the water beside them, one hand on Ash's back to steady him as his other hooked Geodude's now-occupied 'Ball back to his 'Belt.

Progress was slow through the deep water, and it wasn't long before Misty was shivering as well. The cold air caught on the water that seeped from Ash's soaked clothes into hers and made her shiver, as well as the sporadic shocks that coursed out from his body and into hers and Haraia's. Brock noticed them trembling and commented.

"Are you all right? Wanna switch me places?"

"I'm okay. I think I should have sat behind him though." Ash was slumped against her back, unconscious now, arms wrapped loosely around her waist as he struggled to breathe properly.

"Too late now," Brock said. "How much longer, do you think...?"

He didn't need to finish his question. Misty's anxiety had grown in leaps and bounds at the apparent silence that surrounded them. "They've probably found out he's gone," she said after a moment's hesitation, "but I don't think they'll know where to go. Maybe they won't come this way at all..."

As if on cue, the soft echo of voices could be heard reverberating off the walls around them. Haraia halted with a snort, Brock beside her, and everyone strained their ears as terror and apprehension washed through them in waves. If they were caught now, doing this... Being expelled was the least of Misty's worries.

"They're coming from in front of us!" Brock hissed suddenly, and turned to Misty, eyes wide in Haraia's flickering firelight. "They'll see her flames any minute now! What should we do?"

Haraia nickered before Misty could respond, and shook her head with a snort. She jerked forward, then back again, forcing a startled Misty to grab her neck and struggle to keep from sliding off.

"Haraia! What—" She did it again, and comprehension dawned on Misty. "She wants to run," she told Brock wonderingly.

"What?"

"This is the only way out, Brock, and well, _think_ about it. What would _you_ do if a flaming horse came barreling down on you suddenly?"

"Misty, I _really _don't think that's a good idea—"

Haraia jerked again. Misty grabbed Ash's limp elbows and pulled them around her tightly, shivering pleasantly when another thrill rolled through her at his nearness, this one barely fringed with electricity. Then she clutched his arms firmly and leaned forward, trying to find a better balance.

"I don't see any other choice, Brock, and we have to get Ash out of her _now_. We can't take some side tunnel and wander for hours until they go away. If they chase us I'll call on Gyarados or someone to scare them off—"

There was a splash from behind them suddenly. Brock and Misty jumped, but Haraia stayed put, one ear twisted backwards. Misty couldn't see well without turning around and dumping Ash into the water.

"Brock, what—"

"It's Totodile! Don't worry, he's okay, just tired. But that means the guards..."

There was a moment of frightened silence between them as the voices ahead grew steadily louder. Then Misty said firmly, "It's this way or that way, Brock. I say we make a break for it. You take a side tunnel until they pass you, if they even do after they see us, and I'll meet you—"

"Nevermind, I'll come to you," Brock interrupted, and held Totodile up so he could disappear back inside his 'Ball. "Just go. There's nothing else we can do here. I'll find you later, okay?"

"All right."

"And Misty?"

Misty patted Haraia's quivering back as another flood of electricity surged through them. "Yeah?"

Brock's eyes were worried as they met her own. "Be careful, okay? And make sure Ash doesn't fall, or this whole thing will be for nothing."

"What happened to the evil Elemental?" Misty teased, desperately stalling for time. Brock offered her a weak smile.

"I'm just returning an old favor, that's all."

Misty's mind raced at his statement. She opened her mouth to ask him what meant, but before anything came out he lightly slapped Haraia's shoulder and urged her to get moving. She lurched away from him with a jerk, and it was all Misty could to do to keep herself and Ash from flying off as she slowly picked up speed.

Rapidash were supposed to be much smoother rides than ordinary horses, according to her studies. Misty had never appreciated that bit of apparently useless information as much as she did now. She and Ash jerked wildly over Haraia's bare back as the Pokémon forced her hooves through the water, muscles straining under her damp off-white coat as freezing water splashed up and over Misty's legs on both sides. She could only thank Mew she wasn't on an actual horse, because Haraia was more than jerky enough.

It wasn't long before bright lights were visible ahead. Misty heard startled voices, then blinked away spots as Pokémon were released. A flashlight was raised, blinding her. People began to shout. Misty heard Gary Oak's startled voice rise above the others.

"It's Waterflower! Stop her!"

Another series of flashes as more Pokémon were summoned, and then Haraia lowered her head and, horn leveled at the throng, breached the first of them. Misty blinked as flames roared to life all around her. Now she could clearly see Gary Oak and at least ten men crowding the tunnel, surrounded by a horde of snarling Pokémon.

"_Tackle her_!" Gary cried frantically. "_Get them off that horse_!"

Misty wrapped her arms tightly around Haraia's neck, pinning Ash's arms between her stomach and thighs. Something struck her knee on the right; Haraia jerked to the left under its weight, nearly throwing her and Ash, but plowed on, knocking something out of her way with a toss of her horn. Another small body dug a set of claws deep into Misty's left thigh and growled, but another wave of electricity slipped from Ash then and it fell away with a pained howl. Misty gasped at the surge's intensity, then again as she felt Ash's arms tighten around her.

"Sorry," he said thickly, and shifted so that he could see behind them. Misty's stomach lurched at the sudden shift in their position.

"Ash, don't—"

"If you follow us, I'll use this water to fry every last one of you!" he yelled harshly, his voice rough and gravelly. He turned back an instant later and cursed. "Gary's mounting his Dodrio. He'll be on us in minutes; they can lift their legs over the water."

"Well what do we do, then?" Misty demanded, frightened. She was out of ideas.

"We find deeper water. Turn here, girl." He patted Haraia's flank and the Rapidash immediately pitched to the right. The tunnel they turned into was devoid of any light, and she was forced to rely on her own flames to keep from slamming into an unforgiving stone wall.

"Where are we going?" Misty was shivering, soaked through and freezing cold. It felt like they were now going against a small current.

"To the lake," Ash answered gruffly, then jerked. Misty shuddered as another, more powerful wave of current flooded through her; Haraia shivered as well, her muscles twitching like she was trying to scare off a swarm of flies. Ash sucked in a deep breath and leaned weakly against Misty again. "I'm really sorry," he apologized, voice frail and scratchy now, then shuddered again, sparking. Misty's clammy skin was beginning to go numb beneath the constant current. "God, I can't...They just won't _stop_..." His voice cracked, and Misty felt real fear for him course through her. Haraia lurched from side to side as she took more side passages; Misty hoped she knew where she was going.

"You're your own homing beacon, Ash!" Gary called out suddenly from behind them. Misty could hear his Dodrio's hurried splashing as it worked to close the gap between them. "You can't honestly expect to lose me!"

"Ash, what are we going to do?" Misty whispered anxiously. "You don't have much time, and he—"

Ash lowered his forehead to her shoulder and said quietly, "Just make sure Haraia keeps going down. They know we're coming."

"Who?"

"The—just—" He sighed heavily and shivered again. "They'll come for us. Keep going."

The black water, which had been well below Misty's feet at first, was now threatening to envelop her ankles. Haraia struggled through it, her pale coat damp with sweat. Misty jumped suddenly when she felt something slide past her leg. Ash sighed in relief, but Misty didn't like the thought of some unknown creature swimming around just out of her sight.

"What—"

"Stop, Haraia, before it gets too deep." Ash lifted his head to acknowledge a pair of emotionless black eyes watching them from beneath a set of glittering red jewels. The creature slid fluidly beneath the water and disappeared, leaving nothing more than the tiniest ripple behind.

Gary cried out suddenly. Haraia turned, trembling with exhaustion, just in time for Misty to see Gary's Dodrio fall over with a splash and a terrified cry, surrounded by half a dozen small, shiny blue shells. Misty gasped.

"Are those _Tentacruel_?"

"Mmm," Ash grunted against her back, "too big. They can't fit in here."

"Then what—"

"The younger Tentacool hunt in packs. Gary should have known better than to follow us down here—" He paused when another bolt shot through him, powerful enough to make Haraia sway from side to side uneasily. He slumped against Misty's back as it subsided, unconscious again. This time Misty shivered in fear.

Gary broke out of the water gasping and cursing. He pushed himself to his feet, the dark water lapping at his waist, and flipped sopping brown hair from his face, eyes blazing as he reached for his PokéBelt. A single small, thin tentacle snaked out of the water just behind him and wrapped leisurely around his wrist, making him jump. He whirled around and kicked out at the water, then tore at the tentacle. Another appeared behind him, then another. He swore loudly and spun from side to side, desperately trying to undo the one tightening around his wrist as more rose up to bind join it. Behind him Misty could see a swirl of crimson liquid bubble up from above where the Dodrio disappeared, dragged under the water flapping and screaming.

"_Dammit_!" Gary cursed in frightened frustration. He stabbed at his 'Belt and Misty caught a glimpse of something large and red before it slipped beneath the water. A moment later an enormous pincer shot out of the darkness and sliced one of the tentacles binding Gary in two. "Get 'em all, Kingler!" he instructed it, madly unwinding the severed tentacle from his chest. It left a small hole in his shirt where it had stung him.

Misty jumped in surprise when she felt something cold and slightly squishy nudge her leg. She looked down sharply to see at least five variously sized Tentacool watching her, half-submerged in the water. Ash shifted suddenly against her back.

"Get my mom," he mumbled to them, then stiffened. "She's okay, isn't she?" he asked Misty worriedly. "They didn't go after her? They didn't—"

"She's fine," Misty reassured him. She could feel the muscles in his arms and chest relax.

"Okay. Go get her. Follow them, Haraia. And—" He hesitated. Misty felt him lift his head to study Gary for a moment, then set it back down on her shoulder with a heavy sigh, his chest rumbling against her back with his next few words. "Don't kill him. Let him go. Let his Pokémon go too; the Dodrio is more than enough. All right?" The Tentacool flashed their eyes and sank soundlessly beneath the water. A moment later Gary was released. He shouted triumphantly and whirled to face Ash and Misty, then paled when he met the eyes of over a dozen hostile Tentacool floating in the water between them, as well as a handful of other Pokémon. He glared at Ash, obviously expecting some sort of order when the Pokémon didn't rush to Attack him, but Misty could tell by the way Ash was slumped against her that he had lost his hold on consciousness again.

She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. "They won't Attack you if you leave now," she told him evenly, forcing more power into her voice than she felt. The Tentacool didn't look too happy with that arrangement; more and more were joining the churning red water over the Dodrio. Gary followed Misty's eyes and winced.

"You'll pay for that one, Waterflower. You and that Elemental _both_." His threats weren't nearly as daunting when he was dripping wet and retreating, Misty couldn't help but notice. "This isn't over yet!" he shouted ruthlessly. "You know it isn't! Just try to graduate after this! I'll have you _imprisoned_!"

Misty watched grim-faced as he recalled his Kingler and sloshed back the way he came, flicking on a flashlight as soon as he disappeared from the ring of light created by Haraia's flames. Misty shivered in the chill air and another flood of electricity from Ash. She patted Haraia's quivering neck soothingly. The Rapidash was tossing her head at the pair of Tentacool approaching her. Misty felt her Pokémon's terror keenly; she was a Water Trainer, and even she was a little unnerved by their blank eyes and slimy, glistening shells. She couldn't imagine the natural horror a Fire Pokémon might feel surrounded by Water-Types and half-submerged in water to begin with. She mentally promised Haraia the best care she could possibly give her if they managed to escape from this mess unscathed.

"It's all right, girl," she told the horse softly. "They'll get us both out of this water, okay? They're here to help Ash." Ash shifted slightly against her, moaning and rolling his head along her back until his other cheek was pressed against her opposite shoulder, but he didn't wake up. Misty was glad. His shocks had left her body cold and numb; she could only imagine the way he must have felt. At least he was a little more stable now that he was out of the water. A _little_.

The Tentacool glanced wistfully at the gory red water as they passed it, then led them through a side tunnel not twenty feet back the way they'd come. Misty winced and patted Haraia's neck as the Rapidash was forced to wade through the blood. She knew the Dodrio had been Gary's Pokémon, but still...

The water eventually dipped back to its original level, and the Tentacool disappeared in a flurry of bubbles. Misty watched them zoom out of sight behind her, startled, then caught sight of a Poliwag bouncing up and down in the water just in front of them. Haraia snorted and shook out her mane, then began following this more land-based Pokémon as it led them through corridors with less and less water in them.

It wasn't long before Haraia's hooves were striking damp stone, and the Poliwag was replaced by a Rattata/rat mix. It was larger than an ordinary rat but smaller than a Rattata, with light purplish-grey fur and a thick, hairless tail that curled a bit at the tip. It waddled awkwardly ahead of them through countless passages and around a maze or corners for what felt like hours. Misty was slowly drifting off on Haraia's back as the adrenaline that had been surging through her system since early that morning slowly seeped out of her bloodstream. She had no idea what she was going to say in her own self-defense when she went back up to the Stadium again, but she was relieved enough to be alone after Gary's pursuit that she couldn't bring herself to care just yet.

Haraia startled her awake when they reached the empty grooves Ash had lit for her just two days before, their empty patterns flickering eerily in Haraia's firelight. Misty checked her watch, the one she had strapped on with the rest of her 'Gear after Brock had helped her escape from Rudi's suite, and stared. It had hardly been half an hour since they'd gotten rid of Gary.

Haraia picked up her pace. The Rattata mix looked up as she passed, then melted back into the shadows along one wall. Misty assumed Haraia knew where she was going; it made her wonder exactly what Ash had done with her before he'd given her to Misty.

A while later she stopped at a thick wooden door, one Misty recognized as the entrance to Ash's secret home. He was still unconscious against her, presumably asleep now that his breathing had finally evened out. Misty was wondering quizzically how she was going to get him in there when the door burst open on its own.

Delia Ketchum flew out in a flurry or fear and worry. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Ash's haggard form and Misty's weary, pale demeanor. She rushed over to them with a cry of elation at their safety and immediately began tugging Ash down from Haraia's back.

"Um, Delia," Misty began, "are you sure you should do that—"

"Mr. Slate!" Delia called through the door suddenly, staggering under Ash's dead weight. "If you could get out here and help me, please!"

Misty's eyes widened in shock as a wet-haired Brock appeared in the doorway, dressed in an unfamiliar black long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans that he'd rolled up around his bare feet. He met her eyes, just as surprised as she was, and shrugged, then rushed over to help support Ash. Together he and Delia managed to get him inside while Misty climbed stiffly down from Haraia's back, thanked the Pokémon thoroughly, and recalled her, hoping she'd find rest inside her 'Ball until she could be treated in a Center. Then she followed Brock and Delia inside.

They were carefully lying Ash down on a prepared pile of blankets and pillows in the same corner that the Charizard had occupied on Misty's previous visit here. Said Pokémon was watching from the high arched doorway to the left; the young Charmander peeked out from around its neck curiously. Delia didn't seem to notice it while Brock avoided it altogether. Ash stirred and groaned when they propped up his head with a pillow.

"Will he be all right?" Misty asked worriedly, shooting Brock a questioning glance. He shrugged again and sat back on his heels while Delia began stripping Ash's soaked jacket from his arms. The sleeves kept getting caught on the remains of his handcuffs.

"I don't know," she answered distractedly. "They've nearly shorted him out, it looks like." She yelped when a small surge of electricity leapt from Ash's body to hers. "What in the world..."

"He's been doing that since we found him," Misty told her, kneeling beside the older woman anxiously. "That was a weak one compared to some of the others, but they're never steady. I thought at first he was losing strength, but they seem so random...I thought once I got him out of the water..."

Delia eyed her sharply. "The water? What about the water?"

"Well I learned how water can short-circuit Electric-Types, so I tried to keep him out of it as much as I could, but I don't know how long he was in it before—"

"Nonsense," Delia cut her off, and began inspecting Ash more thoroughly. "They must have done something to him."

Misty was confused. She felt Brock lean in curiously over her shoulder and frowned. "But I thought the water—"  
"Water's only dangerous to Electric-Types if they're unable to control their own current, which Ash is more than capable of doing. How do you think he bathes? And he practically lives in that lake, for goodness sake. Lets the damn water seep in much further than his father ever did..."

Now Misty was extremely confused. "Well maybe...I don't know..." Any relief she'd felt at getting Ash to someone with medical experience was quickly vanishing. She'd thought he was so weak because of the water, but if that wasn't it...

"Is it these things?" Brock asked suddenly. He reached around Misty and tapped a handcuff half on Ash's raw wrist. His gloves were gone and the bandage he'd wrapped there before was frayed and torn, revealing shallow cuts in his skin where the metal had dug into his wrists.

"The handcuffs? No." Delia resumed checking his body for anything unnatural.

"Well Misty told me they like, shocked him with them somehow. Something about negative current. Could that have done something?"

Misty and Brock watched Delia worriedly. She stopped at his words and turned to examine the metal bands more closely. Ash sparked again suddenly, and the trio watched in surprise as the handcuffs seemed to alight dimly from within as the current flowed through them. It had barely cackled out when Delia sprang into action.

"Charizard, I need your claws," she called over her shoulder, and ushered Brock and Misty to the foot of the heap to give him room. The lizard stepped beside Ash's head and studied the cuffs closely with a single emerald eye, then leaned down and ran its long, pebbled tongue over the one on his left wrist. As soon as it touched the metal it jerked its head back as if burned, nearly tossing the baby Charmander from its shoulders. Delia watched it worriedly as it shook its head and smacked its thick lips, like it had just eaten something disagreeable.

"Well? Can you get them off of him?"

The Charizard blinked once at her, slowly, then leaned over and gently ran an experimental claw over the band. Hesitating only a moment, it quickly flicked its claw between the metal and Ash's wrist and sliced it in two. It repeated the process on its mate, almost two quickly for Misty to see. Ash shuddered violently as soon as the treated metal fell free. His head thrashed on the pillow as if he was having a nightmare. A moment later he was still and quiet again. Everyone watched him worriedly, unsure or what to do next. Then his eyelids flickered and he groaned. Delia was crouched over his head immediately, methodically smoothing his matted black hair over his forehead and murmuring motherly phrases in his ear.

"Sweetie, it's okay now, you're okay. You're safe here, and Oak's far above us and those horrible handcuffs are gone and you'll be just fine now..."

She broke off with a tearful smile as Ash's eyes cracked open. He studied his mother with a mixture of confusion and weariness, his eyes regaining the barest hint of chocolate deep within the black, and frowned. "Mom? What...Where...The Tentacool..."

Delia shushed him. "It's all right, dear, they found me. I was in the tunnels trying to find my way down here. You're safe now, so just relax and you should be okay again..."

He sighed, his muscles visibly loosening, then caught sight of Brock and Mist and stiffened again. He stared at them in confusion for a moment, as if wondering why there were there, then blinked and let his head sink back into the pillows again, obviously exhausted. He looked at his mother and croaked, "How long—"

"A while," she said firmly, and wiped some of the stale sweat from his forehead. "But first I want you to change out of these freezing clothes. After that I don't want to see you step foot out of your bed until tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest."

"_What_?" he protested. "With Gary after me and everything? Are you insane?"

"Don't speak to your mother that way," Delia reprimanded him, "and don't you dare try to argue your way out of this. He won't get down here. Charizard, dear, if you could fetch Ash some clean, dry clothes..."

The Charizard met her eyes, then turned to the Charmander clinging to its shoulder. The young Pokémon squealed happily, slipped down from its parent's neck, and scurried from the room. Delia focused on Misty and Brock then, who met her eyes apprehensively.

"You two go into that room there," she instructed, pointing to the doorway the Charizard had been standing in before. A full-grown Feraligatr was there now, watching the scene curiously. "On the other side of it is Ash's little fun room. Wait for me in there."

"But—Ash—" Misty was unwilling to leave him. "Will he be okay?" She glanced at him again. His eyes were half-closed and his breathing heavy; he was obviously unaware of anything around him. Misty had never seen him look so vulnerable.

"He should be fine," Delia told her firmly. "They very nearly drained him with that God-awful device, but now that it's off he should be all right. Please, Misty, don't argue with me. Just wait for me in there; I shouldn't be long."

Misty felt a tug on her shoulder and looked up to meet Brock's dark eyes. "Come on, Mist," he said quietly. "You heard her; he'll be fine. Now come on..." He helped her to her feet and steadied her when her stiff legs threatened to give under her weight, then helped her from the room. They both looked back over their shoulder as they left, Misty with open relief on her face and Brock with an unreadable expression. When Ash's prone form disappeared around the corner Misty held Brock's eyes with her own, wordlessly demanding answers. Brock sighed and ran a hand through his short, thick hair.

"Well?" Misty prompted when he didn't say anything. She followed him into the gaming room she remembered passing through before and sank down beside him on a thick cushion set up in front of a television on the floor. Brock glanced at her, then looked hurriedly away at the glint in her eyes.

"Well what?"

"You know exactly what!" Misty steamed. "_Returning an old favor_? What was that supposed to mean? And how did you get down here before me? What's going on with you?"

"Jeez, Misty! Nothing! There's nothing going on! Almost as soon as you galloped off I was surrounded by a bunch of angry-looking Water Pokémon, all right? I didn't have anything on me but Rock, so they sort of herded me off somewhere. Well, I ended up being herded here. I came in from a different way than you did, though; I had to swim for a while, and before I knew it that Charizard was hauling me up out of the water and onto some stone stairs, and Delia was there, looking all worried. I don't know. She gave me dry clothes to wear and as soon as I changed you guys appeared, and I don't know what the _hell _is going on here, so why don't you start answering some of _my_ questions?" His eyes took on a steely glint while he talked, but Misty wasn't backing down. She refused to lower her eyes when he glared.

"No. You first. Do you know Ash somehow? You told me you didn't!"

"And I _thought_ I didn't!" Brock's reply was as forceful as Misty's accusation. "I didn't know he was the _Phantom_! Mew!"

"What do you mean, you _didn't know_? What are you talking about?"

Brock's eyes lost a bit of their fervor. He lowered them and shifted on the lumpy cushion while Misty continued to glare. After a moment of tense silence looked at her and sighed. "I'm telling the truth, Misty. I had no idea he was the Phantom. I do recognize him, though."

Mist's glare switched to a look of astonishment. "You do? From what?"

"Around," Brock shrugged. "I dunno. I used to see him all the time, down in the Rock-Type's cave. You don't go in there much, do you?" Misty shook her head. She had no need to. She spent a lot of time in the Water-Type's area; a huge pool for the Pokémon to exercise in with islands dotted here and there for the Trainers. She'd only been in the Rock-Type's deep, interlacing series of caves a few times, and always with Brock by her side. She was surprised Ash would go in there—unless maybe the tunnels were connected to his underground domain somehow. She made a mental note to ask him later, thankful now that there would _be_ a later.

"'All the time'?" she reiterated. "What was he doing?"

Brock shrugged again. "The caves are almost always filled with Trainers and their Pokémon; non-Rocks can use them to Train and stuff too, so it's always crowded at certain times of the day, like right before lunch and stuff. I used to see him a lot when it was crowded."

"Well what was he—"

"I don't know, Misty! Training, I guess, just like everyone else! I didn't pay any attention to him at first—why would I have? Then one night I was there late—you remember that, don't you? When that smaller cave collapsed on me?"

"You mean that time when you were fifteen? Of course I do. What about it?"

"Well I told you Onix got me out, right?" He shifted uncomfortably. "Well...I kinda lied. Onix was too young to lift anything really heavy back then, and I was stuck between these two huge rocks that he could barely budge. I thought I was gonna have to wait until someone came to Train in the morning to get me out, and I didn't think I had enough air to last that long. I waited hours before, well, before Ash showed up. I felt the ground shift and a group of Dugtrio just came up right underneath me. Ash crawled up after them and told me to follow him out, all nonchalantly and stuff. By the time I was through the other end and out of the rocks he was gone again, and I haven't seen him since."

Misty stared at him. "Are you serious? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I think he asked me not to tell anyone. I was kind of out of it." He looked sheepishly at Misty. "I'm sorry. I thought I imagined the whole thing for the longest time. I mean, I just went straight to bed afterwards, and when I came back the next morning there was no sign of the Dugtrio tunnel. I tried looking for Ash again when the place was crowded, but I could never find him, so..." He shrugged. "I forgot about it. I knew as soon as I saw him earlier though, I _knew_ he was the one who helped me out of there. But really, I mean, I didn't even know his name, and no one I asked knew either, so I just forgot. I remember thinking it was weird that he wore sunglasses now though, since it was dark where I was stuck, and it was late at night. Kinda funny, huh?" He offered Misty a tentative smile, which she returned gratefully, relieved.

"So you believe me, then? You don't think he's some horrible monster either?"

Brock shook his head. "Not anymore. I think you're right about him, Misty, and I want to help him too. I'll bet a lot of Trainers here have seen him around, you know? If he did that for me, and all that stuff for you...He's probably helped loads of people here, and they just don't know it." His dark-eyed gaze grew worried suddenly. "But what happened to you guys? You look almost as drained as he does, and Haraia looked exhausted."

Delia shuffled through the door before Misty could reply. Her aqua eyes caught sight of a familiar yellow ball of fur and she gasped, lurching to her feet in surprise.

"Pikachu! How did you—"

"The headMasters didn't seem to think he was much of a threat," Delia replied for him. The mouse was sitting in her arms draped in two PokéBelts—Ash's PokéBelts, Misty realized with a start. He looked unhappy about something. "He says they stuck him in a regular Pokéball and left him," Delia explained. "He only just managed to sneak away. And now he's going to show you two back to your room, _isn't he_?"

Pikachu glared at her as Misty bolted to her feet with a disbelieving "_What_?" The mouse burst into a string of angry chatter, his ears flat against his skull. Misty picked out the words "Ash," "hurt," and "help," before Delia cut him off.

"He's fine and you know it," she snapped, lowering him to the floor. "Now take these two up to the Stadium before someone notices they're missing or we'll have a _real_ problem on our hands."

"But they already _know_ we're missing," Misty reminded her. "I ran into Gary just a little while ago. He doesn't know about Brock, but—"

"Aren't you dating that young Trovita boy?" Delia asked her suddenly. Misty fell silent, stunned by the unexpected question, and Delia seized the opportunity to continue. "He's got a lot of influence over the headMasters, and didn't you tell me he thought Ash bewitched you somehow?"

"Well—yes, but—"

"Use that," she said firmly. Misty frowned.

"But he must know I'm gone by now. He locked me in his room hours ago—"

"Then tell him Gary broke you out; it'll add to your story and take away from whatever he says. He's been telling everyone you're the evil Phantom's puppet for weeks now, to the point that no one believes anything he says anymore. Rudi thinks you've been tricked, and the headMasters will side with the source of their money before their head of security. Use that."

"But—I mean, how..." Misty had no idea Delia was so devious. If she could get Rudi on her side...He already distrusted Gary so much anyway...

"You'll figure out something. And Brock, change clothes as soon as you get back and hide those someplace safe until Ash can come get them from you. Gary will recognize Cypress's things instantly." Brock looked down at his dark wardrobe curiously while Delia matched Pikachu's glare with her own. "Take them all the way up and make sure no one's around when they get back, all right? Then you can curl up under Ash's shirt, for all I care; just _take care of them first_. Understood?" Pikachu looked away and murmured something irritably . Delia sniffed. "Good. Go on, then; I'll expect you back in an hour or so."

"But Delia, please, can't we go back when Ash is better?" Misty pleaded. "Even if he's okay, I hate to just leave him like this..."

Delia's eyes softened as they met Misty's. "He'll be fine, dear, and he'd want you to go. You know he would. I promise to send him to you as soon as he's better, all right?" Her eyes traveled from her to Brock and back again, and she smiled. "He owes you two his life, you know. He can't say that about anyone else. Now go with Pikachu, please, and pretend you have no idea what happened today. His life depends on it."

**X**


	11. Above the Trapdoors

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act ii Stage vi  
**

_Above the Trapdoors_

_R__udi was frantic._

He'd thought he would only leave Misty alone for a moment when he'd decided to lock her in his rooms, but the headMasters had detained him for a surprisingly long time; it'd been over three hours before he could escape. He'd opened his door with a string of apologies ready on his tongue, only to stop short when the ornate doorknob came off in his hand. A quick look inside had revealed his worst fear.

His suite was empty.

He had no idea where they'd taken that Phantom thing or he would have demanded that the beast tell him where Misty was immediately. What was worse, he couldn't find Oak either, and none of the Masters here knew any more about what was going on than Rudi did. They wouldn't be any help.

He'd thought he was helping her, keeping her safe. He'd thought locking her in would prevent her from trying to help that Elemental, or from accidentally hurting herself in the process. Hell, he'd thought _capturing_ the damn thing would break her of whatever spell was leading her to believe she'd befriended it. Apparently he'd underestimated this 'demon'. He would not make such a careless mistake again.

Half an hour's furious searching had revealed that no, she was not in her dorm, nor was she with her Rock-Breeder friend in his, and that she had apparently disappeared from the Stadium entirely. Well, not _entirely_, but Rudi was clueless when it came to accessing that Elemental's domain. Another half hour wasted in the room with the tapestry had only served to frustrate him to the point of hysterics.

He felt just like he had two nights before, when he'd headed up to Misty's room to tell her that classes the next day were cancelled until the Ariados was caught, only to discover that she wasn't there. The terror that gripped him now, however, far outweighed anything he'd felt at the thought of her lying poisoned and paralyzed in an empty hallway somewhere. He'd sympathized with the Elemental for a while, after three hours of listening to the headMasters' plans for it, but now he felt a small thrill as he recalled their intentions.

If Misty wasn't returned to him safe and sound he would administer some of the more painful experiments _himself_.

He was on his way to the headMasters' office, ready to rescind his much-needed funds if he wasn't taken to the Elemental's cell immediately, when he slammed into someone rounding a corner so hard the impact sent him reeling. He was halfway through a hurried apology when he realized he'd run into Master Drake, and that the man was trying to speak to him.

"Mr. Trovita! Thank Lugia I found you! Come quickly, there's a terrible mess; the Elemental's escaped, Gary Oak's in the infirmary pumped full of Tentacool toxin, and a very confused Misty Waterflower has been asking for you."

**X**

Misty drummed her fingers on the side of her chair nervously and prayed to Mew that Master Drake would fill Rudi in on everything she'd told him before the pair arrived, because Misty didn't think she could lie to him like she could the others. She hated to call for him at all, but everyone knew they were dating each other—practically everything Rudi did was known to at least the female half of the Stadium—and she thought it might look strange if she didn't. The headMasters were there, as well as some of the more prominent Masters, the ones who taught the most advanced courses offered in the Stadium. Gary was unconscious in the infirmary down the hall, his flesh purplish and swollen where the Tentacool had stung him. Misty was glad he wouldn't be able to denounce her story for at least a few days, thereby giving it a chance to sink into everyone's heads, but she really hoped he woke up all right. This wasn't the best time for another serious injury to be scratched onto Ash's record.

She'd run into Master Drake on her way up from the labyrinth below the Stadium, and had hurriedly fed him some incoherent story about breaking free of the Elemental's control when Gary had broken her out of Rudi's suite and tricked her into following him down to the Elemental's cell, where the pair had been Attacked by a school of wild Tentacool. She hated lying to him; she had Master Drake for her class on Dragon-Types, one of the most challenging in the school, and he was by far her favorite Master. He'd even gotten out his Dragonite for her once after class when he learned how much she'd always wanted one; Dragonite were solitary Pokémon by nature and didn't appreciate being around many people, which made them difficult to Train. They were also as nitpicky as some of the more annoying girls Misty knew. Drake had introduced the two of them and taught her everything he knew about her—his Dragonite was female, and the most gentle, serene creature Misty had ever seen. She would never forget those special sessions. She'd stopped setting time aside for them after Rudi arrived and she'd met Ash, an act she regretted now.

Masters Koga and Giovanni were fidgety and anxious. They hadn't taken well to the news that Ash's cell was empty. Apparently Gary had assured them that he would never escape from such a prison, and they'd trusted him so much that when Gary had argued to move him they hadn't seen the need. Misty gathered from the way they talked to each other that they thought Gary had released him accidentally in trying to move him against their orders. Misty wondered if that was why she'd run into Gary down there, and why he seemed to care for Ash's safety so much. He had to have known what those handcuffs had done to him, if he'd put them on. But why would he want to do anything about it?

"If Trovita can't be found, I suggest we forget him for now," Koga burst suddenly, turning to his partner. Giovanni glared at him.

"_Mr._ Trovita is the sole reason we're able to renovate the Stadium in the first place," he reminded him. "If we don't concern him in every financial decision we make, he could very well leave us."

Koga looked ready to explode. "And what difference does that make _now_?" he demanded. His thin face was splotched red by his barely contained anger. "We can't map the underground with that _thing_ still loose down there—he'll just get everyone lost and injured again! Maybe even killed this time!"

"_Will you shut up?_" Giovanni hissed, shooting a glance at their audience. None of the Masters seemed surprised at their exchange, but Misty certainly was. They'd tried to map out those stone corridors? They knew they were there? They'd known _Ash_ was down there?

Koga leaned in closer and spoke in a strained whisper; Misty had to struggle to hear him. "We've already spent well more than we planned to just trying to locate that damned lake. It'll cost tens of thousands more to drain it, _without_ some freak half-breed there to organize the wild Pokémon into a Mew-cursed armada! And what if Trovita doesn't agree to back us, now that he knows where his money's going? What _then_?"

"_Mr._ Trovita has already agreed to help us finance a newer, more modern Stadium," Giovanni hissed back. "He's obligated to fulfill the agreements on the papers he's already signed, at least. And he's—" He stopped and glanced at Misty, who pretended to be fascinated by a pattern on the ornately flowered wall, then whispered furiously, "He's worried sick about Waterflower, and it's obvious the Elemental's got some sort of hold on her—or did, anyway. He'll _want_ to help get rid of it, now more than ever. It's the perfect time to let him in on everything."

Koga had just opened his mouth to respond when there was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Master Drake. "I found him," he announced with a breathless smile, and was quickly swept aside as Rudi rushed past him. Misty stood quickly, startled by his appearance; he looked panicked.

"Mr. Trovita!" Giovanni had turned and was greeting him with a vast smile. "Miss Waterflower here has been asking us to find you for her. Seems she had a bit of a run in with some wild Tentacool..."

Rudi ignored him. He'd stopped short when his eyes fell on Misty, still dressed in the ripped, damp clothes from her rescue mission earlier, and a look of relief flooded his face. He crossed the room in a handful of long strides and wrapped her up in a furious embrace, which Misty had to force herself to return. His arms didn't feel quite as right as they used to.

The headMasters looked slightly uncomfortable. They turned and smiled weakly at one another, feigning happiness for the pair across the long table from them, then glanced at Drake as the Master shut the door and took a seat amongst his peers, most of whom were smiling openly at Rudi and Misty with obvious delight. When he noticed the headMasters' expectant looks, however, he quickly cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter.

"Oh, um, I told him everything she told us on our way up. He said he'd been on his way already; he wanted to speak with you about something."

"Excellent," Giovanni beamed, "we can talk when we've wrapped things up here. Er—Mr. Trovita? I'm very sorry, but we have some rather urgent matters to discuss. If you could release Miss Waterflower for the time being...This isn't really a discussion for a student's ears."

Rudi pulled away from Misty long enough to shoot the headMaster a stern look, which was returned with a glance at the amused faculty. He sighed and rearranged his hold on Misty so that he could lead her from the room, though he didn't release her for even the barest of moments. Misty felt a little suffocated.

"Come on," he whispered in her ear, lightly kissing a spot just above it. "You can start without me," he told the waiting assembly. "I'll catch up in a bit."

Koga took a step forward. "But Mr. Trovita," he protested amiably, "really, we mustn't waste any more time. The Elemental has been loose for hours now—"

"Then a few more minutes won't hurt," he replied firmly. "This will only take a moment." Koga and Giovanni watched helplessly as the pair left the room.

Rudi hugged her again as soon as the door closed behind them. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, his voice packed with worry. He pulled back far enough to look her up and down, then drew her back in for another binding hug, leaving Misty breathless. "You look like you've been through hell and back. Are you sure none of the Tentacool got you? Maybe you should be checked up—"

"I already was," Misty told him, meeting his concerned teal gaze. She smiled for him. "I'm fine, Rudi, really. I called out Gyarados and they left me alone. I guess Gary just didn't have anything big enough on him to scare them off."

Rudi's face darkened at the mention of Gary's name. He pulled her close again, resting his chin on her head so that she was forced to burry her face in his chest, and sighed heavily. Misty was swamped by the smell of seawater, coconuts, and fabric softener. "I'm so sorry," he said softly. He kissed the top of her head before continuing. "I never should have left you alone like that, but I was trying to keep you _in_—I had no idea that maniac would come and break you _out_. Still, it's no excuse, I know. Please, please forgive me. It was brash and stupid and, now that I think about it, maybe more than a little controlling. But I didn't mean it that way, Misty. I swear I was trying to help you."

Misty felt her throat burn as she remembered all the foul things she'd thought about him when he'd locked her in his rooms. She already knew why he'd done it, but she'd been so scared that it would ruin everything...Yet here he was apologizing, and everything was all right again after all, and Misty was guilty for hating him behind his back.

Then she remembered that she was supposed to be playing a part.

"I'm sorry too," she told him, and rubbed her nose against his Spike Shell necklace. The smell of gold filled her senses, and she found herself wondering if the jewel in the center was actually ruby or just an imitation. Rudi shifted his grip around her.

"For what?"

"Following him down there," Misty replied miserably. She tried to summon some guilty tears, but they refused to come. Of course, she thought bitterly. Never when she actually _needed_ them...

Rudi paused. "You don't have to apologize for that, Misty," he told her gently, kissing the top of her head again. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't thinking properly."

_Like hell I wasn't_, Misty wanted to reply. She bit it back and forced her voice to take on the same remorseful tone she'd infused in it before.

"Still, it was stupid of me, and I could have been killed. At least I'm not—not—" She didn't know which word she was supposed to use. Bewitched? Bespelled? They all sounded so stupid in her mind.

"I know," Rudi answered for her. "At least that's over. Would you like to stay in my room again tonight? I have to discuss what to do about this Phantom right now, but I don't want to leave you alone again."

That was the last thing Misty wanted. "Actually," she sniffed, "I have a lot of homework, and my Pokémon need exercise. And I need to talk to my Masters about all the classes I missed..." _Two entire days' worth_, she added silently, biting her lip. She didn't know how she was going to catch up. "I already talked to Master Drake, but the rest of them aren't in there, so..."

Rudi sighed. "I understand. At least let me call one of your friends for you, then, so you won't be alone. Do you think he'd try to hurt you if you were with someone?"

He pulled back to meet her eyes. Misty was glad—the fabric softener was beginning to sting her nose—but she was also a little reluctant to part with his comfortable warmth. Finally, Misty was able to answer him with some semblance of truth.

"No, I don't think he'll try anything at all. I think Gary scared him. Maybe he'll leave me alone from now on?"

Rudi's brow creased. "I hope so," he told her darkly. A moment later his eyes lightened and he smiled. "All right then. I'll call—what was his name again? Brock? Or is he in class right now?"

Misty had to force her smile to remain in control. She couldn't believe her luck. "No, he shouldn't be. He should be in his dorm."

"All right. Tell me his number."

Rudi pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and typed it in. His conversation with Brock was short, and when he finished he flipped the phone shut with a muted clap and smiled at Misty.

"He's on his way. Shouldn't be more than a minute. Want me to wait out here with you?"

Misty smiled gratefully. "No thanks, I think I'm okay." Her eyes grazed over his fancy shirt, which was smeared with a bit of grime from her own, and she winced. "Sorry. I think I may have ruined half your wardrobe by now."

Rudi's smile widened into one of amusement. "Don't worry about it. I'm going to go now; they're expecting me, and I really want this 'Elemental' issue solved." He mentioned Ash with a bitter tinge to his voice, and Misty had to fight to keep her smile strong. She hated confirming his already negative opinion of Ash instead of correcting it.

"Come here," he said suddenly, softly, and lifted her chin for a gentle kiss. As soon as he touched his lips to hers, however, he jerked them back again as static electricity from Misty crackled shortly between them. Misty jumped too, startled, and met his eyes apprehensively. She'd been shocking herself on nearly everything she touched since she'd emerged from the underground, and she could only guess that it had something to do with Ash. But had Rudi made the connection?

She was surprised to see him laughing. She smiled tentatively and tried to hide her confusion.

"October," he said with a shake of his head. "I'll have to remember to start bumping car doors and doorknobs with my hip again or my fingers will be completely numb before Christmas." He leaned forward and kissed her again, just a quick one, before straightening once more to his full height. Misty's smile fanned out into one of relief. _Thank Mew_.

"You'll be all right?" he asked her, and she nodded. "Okay. Brock should be here any second now. I'll be right in here, and I'll come say goodnight before I go to bed. We should have this Elemental issue resolved before then." He kissed her forehead, running a warm hand once more through her gritty hair, and moved around her to reenter the headMasters' second office. Not a moment later Brock appeared around the corner, grinning and dressed once more in his own clothes. Misty rushed toward him, a huge grin plastered to her own face.

"I don't believe this," he said when she reached him. She glanced at the headMasters' door to see that it was closed with Rudi safely behind it, so she grinned wider and shoved his shoulder with a laugh. He shoved her back playfully. "Can you believe this?" he asked her. "I can't believe this. I'm telling you, Misty, this is unbelievable."

Misty laughed, giddy with relief, and together the pair started off toward the northern wing. Brock continued to mutter proclamations of disbelief from her side.

"I mean, seriously, he seriously believed you? And just _let you go_? And called _me_ to pick you up? This is unbelievable!"

"Shush!" Misty warned him, glancing at the Trainers and Masters near them in the hallway. She was struggling to suppress her own laughter though; it was clambering to get out so badly it bordered on hysterics.

"But it's all okay again now, isn't it?" Brock asked her quietly, smiling broadly. "Ash is all right and we're out in the clear. Everything's okay again! Mew, when you called me this morning I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but now I'm glad you did. This is probably the most exciting thing I've ever done!"

Misty, still grinning in relief, caught sight of a black band wrapped around a student's arm and sobered immediately. She turned to Brock, who lost some of his elation at the look on her face.

"What?"

"Max," she said quietly, and his happy demeanor disappeared entirely. His eyes narrowed and swept across the students around them. None of them looked very happy. He looked back at Misty apologetically.

"Mew, I forgot. How could I forget? May's in one of my classes. I wonder if she was there today..."

"Did they ever catch the Ariados?" Misty asked him. She'd been so occupied with Ash the last couple days that she'd nearly forgotten it was loose. Brock glanced at her, and the barest hint of a smile reappeared.

"Yeah, actually. Funny story about that. Apparently they found it curled up on its back in a room that had been searched and sealed off before, on their second sweep through the Stadium. It was in a dark corner, smoking."

"Smoking?" Misty moved past him to press her floor's button in the elevator. No one joined them, and Brock didn't press his. He fixed her with a full smile as the doors closed.

"From an _Electric Attack_," he old her smugly. "I didn't put two and two together before. I guess Ash got to it before they could."

"No," Misty said before she could stop herself, "Ash was with me all night." She winced at the way that sounded, and was surprised to find herself blushing as Brock's gaze turned into one of suspicious curiosity.

"Oh?" he teased. The elevator slid to a stop on the sixth floor with a ding and he followed her off with a smug grin. He waited until the people waiting there had boarded and the doors had closed again before he continued. "_All night_? What did Rudi have to say about that?"

Misty rolled her eyes. She was still distractedly trying to banish her blush, which seemed to be one of the more stubborn varieties. Brock followed her all the way to her door. Misty had a horrified moment when she couldn't find her keys, but it was only a moment; they were still clipped to her 'Belt, right where she'd left them.

"Rudi didn't say anything, Brock, because Rudi thinks he kidnapped me." Brock's eyes flashed and she immediately regretted her words. What was wrong with her today?

"Oh really? He thinks Ash _kidnapped_ you? With handcuffs and everything? Even more interesting..."

Misty sighed. "Oh shut up, you know what I mean." She clicked the bolt lock open and slipped inside, where she immediately collapsed face-first on her bed, arm dangling off the side comfortably. She smiled. "Mmm...I've never been so happy to see my own faded sheets again."

"Faded from sweat and dust," Brock added, sinking down beside her. "When was the last time you washed them?" Misty grunted a noncommittal response and he laughed. "Thought so. But come on, you have to tell me now. You spent all night in that place with Ash, and you're telling me you didn't do anything? What's _wrong_ with you? I mean, Ash is cute, isn't he? In that rough, unkempt way you tomboys like? Like me?" He struck a pose.

Misty kicked him, but it did nothing to deter his smile. "Not everyone's as lecherous as you, Brock," she said flatly, and he smirked.

"Well goodness, I hope not. There'd be no sweet single females left for me to sweep off their feet if they were." His comment reminded Misty of something, and she sat up to talk to him seriously—or as seriously as she could when he was in this kind of mood.

"Speaking of sweet single females, are we going to the Halloween dance this weekend? It's crept up on me so fast I completely forgot about it, and we still need to figure out costumes." She frowned when Brock's cocky grin slipped from his face and was replaced by a nervous expression. "What?" she asked him. "Not planning to go this year? We can watch horror movies all night again if you don't want to."

"No, it's not that. I just..." He was rubbing his palms together roughly, something he only did when he was really uneasy. Misty cocked an eyebrow.

"You just what?" She smiled slyly when his discomfort intensified. "Well?"

"Well, I just...sort of...made other plans for that night..." He met her eyes helplessly. "I'm sorry, Misty. I know we always go together, but you've been so distracted the last few weeks that I sort of, well, made plans with someone else. I thought you'd want to go with Rudi anyway."

Misty felt a pang of guilt for ignoring Brock so much, but it was quickly swept aside by her curiosity. "Really? You mean some girl actually said yes when you asked her?"

Brock looked panicked. "I didn't think she would! You know how I am—no one _ever_ believes me! And I was just goofing off again, and I asked her, and she just _accepted_! I was so speechless that she smiled and left before I could do anything! God, Misty, what am I supposed to do? I barely know her!"

Misty managed to choke back her laughter only through immense effort. "Let me guess," she gasped. "Was it Suzie? The blue-eyed girl with long hair?"

Brock looked aghast. "How did you know?" he asked cluelessly.

"Brock, she's had a crush on you since you tried to kiss her back when you were thirteen! Don't you remember? She was the first girl who ever slapped you, and you were emotionally scarred for weeks!" Tears sprang to Misty's eyes at the memory. Brock continued to stare at her, completely lost.

"I tried to kiss her?" he asked vaguely.

"Of course you did! You've tried to kiss every girl in the building at least once by now, even _me_!"

Misty was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. The look on Brock's face...She was so happy to be able to just hang out in her dorm with him again, talking about normal things like the dance instead of worrying that doing the wrong thing would get someone killed. The last few days had been so intense that she was grateful for even a few normal minutes with Brock, even if she knew everything would be stirred up again as soon as Gary regained consciousness.

Ash was safe again, she thought giddily. Rudi was confident of her innocence, and Brock had an actual date for the Halloween dance. It was hard to imagine that only scant hours ago she'd been riding through the dark, dank passages connected to the lake, terrified for her life and the life of the Electric Elemental clinging unconscious to her back.

**X**


	12. Twisted Every Way

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act iii Stage xii**

"_Twisted every way/what answer can i give?"_

_R__udi's phone bill came on Friday, just like it had on the last Friday of every month since he'd arrived._

Phone calls made from his suite to other phones in the Stadium were free, so he only used it for that. Otherwise his cell had much better rates, and he preferred to save his income for more important things—like finding and eliminating dangerous human/demon mixes before they dragged down his girlfriend's name, for instance.

_His girlfriend_, Rudi thought happily. He reached for the elegant letter opener carved in the likeness of a Dratini and slit the thick envelop open. Yes, Misty was definitely his girlfriend now. _Finally_. As he'd gradually learned to accept his inheritance of the Trovita island chain, he'd also had to learn how to deal with the girls that came with it. He'd had the occasional girlfriend, it was true, but none of them lived up to the image of the scruffy redhead he remembered from his childhood.

"Scruffy..." He smiled to himself, balancing his morning coffee on his knee and settling comfortably in his armchair to glance through the convo logs that were automatically recorded to help him keep track of his monetary contributions. It was so much easier to file away a carbon copy of his conversations with the headMasters than try to keep track of a bunch of scribbles he'd jotted down on sticky notes. A memory of the way Misty had looked when she'd answered her door Wednesday night filled his mind; fresh from the shower, with damp hair and clean pajamas, smelling vaguely of the ocean...She'd been beautiful. His smile widened. "Not so scruffy anymore..."

His eyes roved the clipped dialogue vaguely; he was distracted by the way Misty's aqua eyes—not quite blue and not quite green—had been brought out by the deep emerald of her sweater yesterday, when he'd managed to catch her for a quick kiss between two of her classes. The memory brought a smile to his face. "_Definitely _not scruffy."

He was in the act of cautiously sipping his steaming coffee when he realized that the call he was skimming through had not been placed by him, and that it was not about money. His eyes widened as he backtracked through it, then caught at the name and date on the top.

He did not remember calling a Mr. Brock Slate, room 937, on Wednesday at 10:37 in the morning, nor on any other day for that matter.

**X**

Misty shivered in the crisp air as it rushed by all around her, lifting the loose orange strands of her hair and whipping them viciously around her face. She shook them free and gripped the pages of her book tightly; she had to read four chapters of _From 'Diles to 'Gaters: The Remarkable Evolutionary Chain of a Totodile and the Anatomical Changes it Undergoes_ for her class on Pokémon that resembled ancient animals by Monday, as well as a small book on Kabutops and about a hundred Critical Thinking questions. She thought about all the other homework she had to catch up on as well, in addition to exercising her team properly—letting them loose on the roof for a while was only a temporary solution. There was a tricky problem concerning Haraia; she'd Evolved quickly enough for people to take notice, so Misty had procrastinated on filling out her Evolution file until she could come up with a logical reason for her shift in power. Withholding such important information as a Pokémon's Evolutionary date was a punishable offense, and Misty did not want her Training license revoked—even temporarily—when she was so close to graduating. Less than two more months...

Thoughts of Ash were keeping her from concentrating on her text. It was fairly early Friday morning and she hadn't seen him since Wednesday; she'd expected him to stop by her room or something last night, but he hadn't, and a quick peek in Arena Five had revealed it to be devoid of him as well. Not even Pikachu had come to see her, and Delia's unexplained absence had finally been noted by the staff. Was Ash really all right, or had his condition worsened? How was Misty supposed to focus on her homework when she didn't know?

Haraia's nose nuzzled her cheek suddenly, warm and wet, and Misty jumped. She looked up quickly to see a playful sparkle in the Rapidash's large amber eyes, and she smiled wistfully. "I'm sorry, girl, but I just have so much homework...Here, why don't we find an empty arena so I can get Totodile or Starmie out, all right? The wind's too much for them up here; they'd dry out too quickly."

Haraia snorted and took a step back, her flames whipping about wildly in the wind. Misty unfolded her legs slowly and painfully; they were still sore after being spread across Haraia's broad back for so long Wednesday, though they definitely felt better than they had yesterday. She closed her book on her thumb and recalled the Pokémon, then glanced out over the ledge at the city far below her and sighed. It'd been so long since she'd been able to relax up here, one of the few places she knew of not constantly thronged with Trainers. She'd missed the prettiest time of the year, when the leaves on all the trees in the city were various shades of red and orange and yellow, and the wind that tended to pick up was a bit warmer. She wondered if she'd ever be able to see it again, after she left in December.

She wondered too if Ash ever left the Stadium. If so, why did he return? And if not...

She shivered again, and pulled her jacket tighter around her chest, though it did nothing to warm the cool ache inside it. Just one more worry atop a mountain of others. Misty sighed again before turning and picking her way through the various stone statues of famous Pokémon who had gotten their start here. The door that led back inside was hidden behind a snarling Typhlosion that had won its Trainer the Indigo League.

The doorknob gave her a vicious shock when she reached for it, and she jerked her hand back with a yelp. Cursing fluently as she shook it out—this happened every year around this time and she hated it—she was startled when the door opened for her.

Rudi was on the other side. He met her eyes grimly and thrust forward a small packet of papers. Misty reached for them automatically, puzzled by his harsh demeanor.

"What—"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

His voice was carefully devoid of any emotion. Misty's eyes scanned the flapping papers in annoyed confusion. He'd folded the packet over its staple near the bottom of the pile, and it was hard to keep it rigid enough to read in the fierce wind. Then she realized exactly what she was reading and froze, eyes wide.

Rudi was watching her carefully. He snatched the packet from her as soon as she stiffened, and jabbed an accusatory finger at a dozen different places as he rattled off a string of vaguely familiar sentence fragments.

"'Break me out as soon as possible...' 'tried everything I could think of, and no one will listen...' 'need your help to get out and help Ash...' 'tell you everything...' 'hurry, before Rudi comes back...' Misty, just what is this?" It wasn't really a question. He fisted the papers in his hand and prodded her with them furiously. "You told me _Oak_ broke you out. You told me _he_ tricked you into going down there. You _lied_ to me!"

Misty took a step back. She'd never experienced Rudi's anger when it was turned on her before, and it was more than a little discomforting. "I—" Her brain rushed to find something to say. "I didn't—I mean, I—"

"You _what_, Misty?" Rudi interjected. "You got your little Brock friend to help you, and played me for a dupe? You broke the Elemental out yourself and tried to eliminate Oak so he wouldn't squeal? You _lied_ to Drake's face when he found you wandering around downstairs? Please, tell me! You _what_, exactly?"

Misty's mind was blank. What could she possibly say to explain that conversation? What could she say to make him think she was still under Ash's falsified influence at the time? What...How had he gotten a hold of it, anyway?

"Oak's awake." Misty's breathing quickened at that statement. She watched helplessly as Rudi calmly and meticulously folded the crumpled packet in two, then tucked it inside his jacket. He wasn't meeting her eyes. Misty cleared her throat and struggled to piece a coherent sentence together.

"What...did he say?"

Rudi shrugged He made a big deal out of adjusting his collar so his jacket fit more comfortably around his shoulders, glancing only briefly at her wind-chilled face. "I don't know, I haven't spoken to him yet. Should I? What will I hear, I wonder? A story to match his guards', one of a _wild Rapidash_ stampeding through the waterways, or a wild tale about a pod of homicidal Tentacool? Where's that Ponyta, anyway, Misty? I didn't see you use it in your public Battle yesterday, even when your opponent used a _Grass-Type_."

Misty's heart was racing. This was it. He knew. He wasn't stupid. He was her only solid defense against what she knew Gary would say, and now he knew the truth. What would happen to her now? Would she be expelled? Stripped of her title? Imprisoned? What was worse?

"Are you..." She hesitated, then forced herself to pull it together. It was over now; he knew, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her voice strengthened and she met his eyes evenly. "Are you going to turn me in?"

His expression lost some of its resolve and he lowered his eyes, sighing heavily. When he replied his voice sounded tired and strained. "I don't know, Misty. Should I? Would it make any difference if I did?" He met her eyes again, and they looked so pained that Misty felt a wave of guilt wash through her. She lowered her own.

"I'm sorry," she told him honestly. She was startled when Rudi snorted.

"For what? Helping that Elemental escape? I'm not stupid, Misty, and I'm not about to fall for that again—"

"_No_," she interrupted forcefully. "I'm sorry I _lied_ to you. I didn't want to, and I wouldn't have if you had just _listened_ to me."

"Oh, so now everything's _my_ fault, is it?" he exploded suddenly. "I suppose it's my fault the Elemental was captured in the firstplace—"

Misty's anger swamped her at his words. "His name is _Ash_, not 'Elemental,' and yes, it _is_ your fault! You told Gary what I told you!"

Rudi's eyes flashed. "I told him _nothing_! I told the headMasters _nothing_! I respected your wishes and said _nothing_ to _anyone_! They were so frustrated that they would have told me to leave if they hadn't needed my money so badly!"

"Well you told _someone_!" Misty flared. "_I_ didn't tell anyone about Arena Five—"

"I didn't say anything until I woke up and found you gone! I was so terrified for you that I didn't know _what_ to do—" His voice broke, and he tore his furious eyes from hers. Misty was surprised to see a hint of tears in them. He took a deep, slightly shaky breath before starting again. "I called the headMasters that morning and told them where I thought you were, and why. That's all. That's all they needed. And I was _right_."

Misty's body was still trembling with indignant rage. Whatever sympathy she'd felt at glimpsing his tears was quickly swept aside at the accusatory tone his voice had taken. "Yes, Rudi, you _were_ right. _I_ was wrong. I shouldn't have told you anything. I shouldn't have expected you to let me have _any_ time to myself—"

"'_Time_ _to__yourself_'?" Rudi sputtered. "You went straight to that Elemental!"

"Of course I did! I owed him an apology for running away and actually trusting his safety with _you_!"

"You snuck away from me the first chance you got!"

"I knew you wouldn't let me go where I wanted to go!"

"Of course I wouldn't! He's a demon!"

"He's my _friend_, and I'm a grown person! I can make decisions about who I want to see _myself_!"

"Well dammit, Misty, you're making the wrong decisions!"

"I'd rather make the wrong decisions on my own than have you force me into the ones I don't agree with!"

"Lugia, Misty, why can't you understand? Every decision I've made for you has been to _help_ you!"

"_I don't want your goddam help!_"

"Good! Because _I'm not going to help you anymore_!"

The two glared at each other fiercely, faces set and breathing rocky. Misty was gripping her textbook so tightly she could feel her fingers aching. This wasn't what she wanted. Rudi had been so good to her since he'd arrived, the last thing she wanted to do was drive a stake between them, especially after they...When they were...Dammit, everything had been so _good_ between them!

"Does this mean you're going to turn me in?" she asked bitterly. She was forcing as much anger as she could into the empty hole clawing ruthlessly at her chest. Rudi pressed his lips together.

"And what good will that do?" he asked tersely. "What's done is done. It'll cost thousands to flush him out again, but the headMasters are determined to do it. And I'm going to help."

Misty felt angry, frustrated tears spring to the corners of her eyes. "God dammit, Rudi, _why_? What has Ash ever done to you?"

Rudi eyed her carefully for a moment before responding. Then, in a voice shaking with some unnamed emotion, "Because he took the wonderful, beautiful girl I've loved all my life and turned her into a lying, conniving backstabber who'd as soon use me as trust me, and I'll never forgive him for it."

He turned on his heel and disappeared through the door before Misty could respond. All the anger she'd forced into her chest had flown out at his words, leaving behind a wide, gaping hole. She couldn't stop trembling.

**X**

Brock was still in bed when Misty found him. He threw on a shirt and jeans when she knocked and stared sleepily for a moment before ushering her inside, surprised to find tears in her eyes. He hadn't seen her cry since...since...Well, he hadn't seen her cry in a _long _time. She didn't like to put her emotions on display like a vid-screen.

He'd only just sat beside her on his rumpled bed when she started to _really_ cry, and that jolted him awake pretty quickly. In between sobs she managed to tell him what had just happened. Then she hugged her knees to her chest and Brock could tell she was struggling to control herself, and couldn't. After a moment's hesitation he did the same thing to her that he did to his younger siblings after a nightmare had left them terrified: he wrapped her up in the best big-brother hug he could muster.

She went rigid at first, then collapsed against his shoulder, shaking. Brock ignored the wet spot spreading slowly over his shirtsleeve and tugged a textbook out from between them to keep it from poking him painfully in the ribs. He didn't try to shush her, just traced soothing patterns on her trembling back with one hand while he held her with the other, rocking slowly. He should have known she'd break down sooner or later. She'd been under so much stress from her Masters these last few months, then Rudi had come and mixed her up good, and then all that stuff with Ash...Mew, he really should have seen this coming.

After a few minutes he could tell she was trying to get herself under control. He didn't say anything when the sobs turned to occasional soft hiccups, or when she pulled her hand free from between them to rub at her eyes. When she finally sniffled and pulled away, Brock let her. She looked embarrassed.

"I'm sorry—" she began weakly, but Brock cut her off.

"Don't be. Do you feel any better?"

Misty snorted, her eyes rimmed bright red, and looked around his room. "No. Am I supposed to? What am I supposed to feel?"

Brock looked down. He didn't know. He wasn't any good at this type of thing when it was serious, and he'd never really discussed it with her before. Sure, the two of them had pulled the occasional all-nighter to watch movies and make fun of Misty's newest ex, but usually she was the one to break the relationship, and everything they'd done had been in lighthearted jest. He'd never seen her cry over anyone before, but he didn't think she'd loved any of them as much as she did Rudi. What was he supposed to say to that?

He heard Misty sigh heavily as a fresh wave of tears filled her eyes. She looked at her lap and wiped them away with a harsh laugh. "This is all so stupid," she told him thickly, and sniffed. "I'm so stupid. I should have known this would happen. Rudi's not stupid. He would have figured it out. But he didn't have to yell at me like that, you know? He didn't have to say all those things. And he didn't have to—guh! He's so _stupid_!"

Brock wanted to hug her again as he watched her struggle to banish another flood of tears, but thought better of it. What he _really_ wanted to do was storm into Mr. Fancy Pants' super deluxe suite and knock him around a little for what he'd done to her, but he thought better of that too—barely. He was in this mess as deep as she was now, and he doubted punching Rudi Trovita would help their situation any. Though it might have made him feel better, he added grimly, and maybe Misty too.

"You wanna know what I think?" he asked her softly. She looked at him and sniffed.

"What?"

"I think you're better than Trovita. If all he can think about is banishing Ash or whatever, then let him. We're both out of here in two months anyway—think about it! There are prettier Goldeen in the sea."

Misty snorted. "Who told you that one?" she bit out, and Brock smiled for her.

"My dad. Who else? I get my lecherous ways from him, you know."

Misty rolled her eyes, now merely shining with unshed tears instead of leaking them, and muttered, "Believe me, I know." Brock scrambled to come up with something to get her mind off Rudi.

"Well hey, why don't you let me shower and then we can go get some breakfast and watch some movies or something? Or play videogames. You haven't even tried that new one yet."

Misty gave him a weak, shaky smile. "I already ate breakfast, actually. I got up early to catch up on my homework, but I don't know how much I'll be able to finish now...Damn. Earlier it was Ash and now it's Rudi _and_ Ash. Why is all of this happening at once?"

"What do you mean, 'earlier it was Ash'?" Brock asked, frowning. "Is he not okay either?"

"I don't know!" Misty burst out, and had to wipe away more tears. "I haven't seen him since Wednesday. Wednesday! What if he's not? How am I even supposed to know? Dammit! I just—I can't _concentrate_ on anything, and I have everything to concentrate on! It's _annoying_!"

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She flashed him a grateful grin and stood to leave. Brock could see from the way she moved that she was still sore from Wednesday, and sympathized for her. It really was all coming on at once, wasn't it?

"Thanks, Brock," she told him, "but I have to do it myself. I have to _learn_ this stuff. Come get me for lunch though, okay? I'm gonna try and find some empty arena so my Pokémon can work out while I study. Not Arena Five though." She gave him a shaky smile and left, and Brock collapsed on his bed in a limp heap, his stomach twisting. He'd thought there'd really been something between her and Rudi—maybe there still was, if Rudi would just get over himself and accept the fact that she and Ash were friends too, and that he wasn't some evil monster. Which was kind of hard to accept, he acknowledged ruefully, and sighed. Now that Gary Oak was awake and Rudi knew the truth about what they'd done, he had no idea what would happen to them.

They'd buried themselves in the middle of a very thick, very smelly pile of Snorlax dung.

**X**

Rudi debated with himself for hours over what he should do. Telling the headMasters what Misty and her friend had done would clear Gary's name—who was actually innocent for once, he acknowledged with a scowl—but it could also get them expelled, and he didn't want that. He wasn't out to ruin Misty's life. Despite what she thought, he really did love her, and he wanted things between them to go back to the way they were.

But she'd _lied_ to him. Met his eyes and lied to his _face_.

Rudi had never liked lying. To him it was a cowardly, selfish act used to squirm out of mistakes that people were required to take responsibility for. And she'd done it at the cost of an innocent's name and reputation, and to cover for that _Phantom_...

That Phantom.

This was all his fault. None of this would have happened if he hadn't bullied Misty into meeting him in secret for weeks on end, right under Rudi's nose. And why had he, anyway? That was the bit that made Rudi nervous. If he really, truly meant her no harm, then why had he continued to risk his own safety just to teach her Pokémon a few new tricks? He had to have realized by now that Misty was certainly capable of Training them on her own. She was the most capable person Rudi knew. Capable and headstrong.

Rudi loved that about her. He adored her strong, stubborn nature—but he also knew it was the reason she was in so much trouble. If she'd just stopped and _listened_ to him...Lugia, why was she so adamantly against his help? What was it about this Elemental creature that she loved so much as to choose it over Rudi?

Rudi stopped short, his heart beating madly. _Did_ she love him? Was that why? But he wasn't even human! How could she love that thing more than him?

But Misty didn't believe this 'Ash' to be a demon. Rudi had to admit he hadn't looked like one, from what he'd seen of him in Arena Five. But looks could be deceiving, and Gary Oak—who, Rudi acknowledged again, _had_ known this Elemental a lot longer than Misty—was confident in its evil nature. He'd hinted that it'd been the cause of his grandfather's descent into madness nearly twenty-three years ago. Everyone knew of crazy old Sammy Oak, who had been one of the great minds of his day back before a freak electric accident right here in the Stadium had scrambled his brains. Rudi admitted now that there was probably some truth in that; Old Man Oak still babbled about Elementals and demons to anyone who would listen, and this 'Ash' Elemental, though he didn't look older than twenty, was definitely Electric. Maybe they didn't age? They _were_ supposed to be demons, after all.

Maybe Oak knew of some way to get rid of this Ash then. Maybe all those rants Rudi had filed away as obsessive and maniacal actually held some shred of truth in them. Maybe Ash really was evil, and maybe his plans for Misty were simply long-term—or maybe Misty wasn't his target at all. Rudi shivered. It couldn't have been coincidence that Misty had begun seeing the Elemental right around the time he himself had arrived here, could it? That Ponyta she'd been given had been the perfect opportunity for Rudi to renew his contact with her; he'd heard she was here and had been debating how he could approach her without seeming too forward all day. But what could the Elemental possibly want from _him_, if anything at all?

Rudi frowned. He obviously couldn't pretend to know what this thing was after, but he doubted anything that had happened so far was pure coincidence, and he was tired of watching Misty get caught in the crossfire. This Elemental had to go, and there was only one person he knew who might be able to get rid of it, as much as the thought of working with him disgusted Rudi. But there was still a chance to salvage Misty's name.

Gary Oak was awake all right, though he definitely wasn't talking. His throat was so swollen from the toxin that the nurses had been forced to put him on an oxygen tank, but they'd said it would go down by the end of the day, at the latest. Rudi had to speak with him in private before that happened.

He had to make him understand that Misty's name was not to be dragged down with this Elemental's, and that as long as that was understood Rudi would do everything in his power to make sure the demon would never be able to bother her again.

**X**


	13. Angel, I Hear You

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act iii Stage ii  
**

_Angel, I hear you/Speak, I listen/Stay by my side/guide me..."_

_Misty felt miserable for the rest of that day and most of the next._

Brock and Suzie stopped by her room on their way downstairs to the Halloween party though, which had cheered her up for a little while. Brock was dressed as an enormous stalk of broccoli; his stem was so narrow that he was forced to waddle comically wherever he went, and it amused his date to no end. He'd shown up at Misty's door with an enormous grin on his green-painted face and announced proudly, "Hello! I'm broccoli! Get it? I'm Brock-oli!" while waving his stubby hands, which came directly out of the stalk and held bushy broccoli-looking branches. They both wore black bands in memory of young Max Haruka, though without arms Brock was forced find an alternative location for his. It looked like he'd finally settled on working it around one of the thinner stems branching out from the top of his head.

He had, apparently, gotten over his shyness of Suzie upon learning that she was studying to be a Breeder as well. Misty was glad. She knew Brock's lecherousness was mostly just for show; he really did want a steady girlfriend, he was just afraid of being seriously rejected. Misty thought quiet, steady Suzie was perfect for him; she would never break his loyal heart with thoughtless, frivolous flirtations, and she was one of the few people in the Stadium who might actually appreciate his quirky sense of humor. She just hoped Brock realized what a find she was before graduation. Suzie had had her eye on him for years, but he just wasn't the type of guy who paid close attention to what others thought of him.

They'd left her alone with her homework around eight, though they hadn't stopped begging her to go with them until she'd finally closed the door on Brock's bushy green head. She didn't want to be one of those singles abandoned at the snack table, picking absently at cold hor'dourves. Besides, memories of her sort-of breakup with Rudi were still fresh in her mind, and she didn't feel like bursting randomly into tears if she happened to run into him.

She had briefly considered going anyway and to hell with Rudi, but one look at the crooked mountain of textbooks on her floor was more than enough to sweep that thought from her mind. She'd ended up spending most of Friday hanging out with her Pokémon in an attempt to forget about him, and had consequently been stuck with mostly bookwork today. And on top of all that, she _still_ hadn't seen Ash, and his absence was beginning to unnerve her; it'd been well over three days now. Sighing heavily, she tried to banish everything from her mind and settled comfortably on her bed, scanning her open textbook in an attempt to find where she'd left off at Brock and Suzie's interruption. She supposed the only other person in the world who could possibly feel more miserable right now was May Haruka.

Not ten minutes later she had finally gotten into her text when she was startled abruptly out of it again by a soft knock on her door. She glared at her book in frustration. With Brock at the party there was only one other person who would come to see her, and whether it was to apologize or not, Misty did _not_ want to speak with him right now.

"If that's you, Rudi, go away!" she told the door crossly, and turned back to her book. A moment later she heard the door open, and she cursed at her carelessness. She should have locked it.

"I told you, Rudi, to _go away_—"

"Are you having problems with Rudi? Because I thought Mom said he was gonna help you with Gary."

"_Ash!_" Misty was on her feet and across the room before her book had time to fall to the cluttered floor. She had just enough time to glimpse his startled expression—half-hidden behind another pair of dark sunglasses—before she was hugging him tightly, ignoring the minor electric shock that rolled through her at his touch. It was another moment before she realized his reaction.

He'd gone rigid in her arms, completely opposite of the way he'd held her limply just a few days before. Misty breathed in his scent deeply before reluctantly releasing him; she'd never thought a mixture of dust and static electricity could smell so good. An instant later, though, her relieved smile had flipped into an annoyed frown.

"Where have you _been_?" she demanded angrily, and took a step back in order to fix him with the full intensity of her glare. Ash squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze, and she crossed her arms. "Well? You made it sound like you'd be up by _Thursday_. Today's _Saturday_, and I've been worried sick!" She didn't add that he still looked a bit pale, or that the tiny portion of his eyes visible around his glasses looked red-rimmed and sleep-deprived. His hair was droopy as well; it wasn't sticking up nearly as much as it usually did, and it seemed a duller black than she remembered. A chill ran through her at the thought of him aggravating something that had looked bad enough on Wednesday.

"Are you still sick?" He jerked his eyes up to hers, startled, and Misty saw that his lips were dry and cracked as well. Her fear turned to anger. "You _are_ still sick, aren't you? What the hell were you thinking, coming all the way up here when you're still sick? What if you make it worse? You shouldn't have come if you're not better yet!"

He looked confused, and a little panicked. Misty took another step back and pointed to her bed, which was still piled with notebooks and pens from her massive study session earlier. "Sit down before you make it worse," she ordered. Ash stared at her.

"I'm fine—" he began weakly, but Misty was not about to risk his health again.

"_Sit_. _Down_." Ash met her eyes for the briefest of moments before stepping quickly past her and perching gingerly on the corner of the bed. Misty sank down beside him and noticed that the gloveless hands pooled in his lap were wrapped halfway up his forearms with gauze. She wondered if the cuts from those handcuffs still hurt, or if he was still randomly shocking things. Then she wondered if he was somehow connected to the way she had been shocking things lately. She usually only shocked herself on metal, not people.

"Does your electricity get worse in the winter?"

"I—what?"

"The static shocks," Misty explained, and reached over to poke his arm. Her finger popped when she got too close and she jerked it back, then looked up at him expectantly. He'd jerked away as well, and was staring at her in confusion.

"Um, no, not really—"

"Do you ever shock things without meaning to?" Misty had a hundred questions running rampant through her mind, and she was determined to find answers for every one of them.

"Not really, I—"

"What about your electricity? Does it ever hurt?"

Ash was staring at her with an odd expression on his face. "No..." he said slowly, and Misty curled her legs up Indian-style on the bed to make herself more comfortable.

"What about your eyes? Can you see in the dark?"

"What, you mean like night vision? Of course not."

"Then how can you wear sunglasses in the dark? Isn't it, well, dark?"

He was frowning at her now, and he answered her question with an extended, "Yes..."

"What about pupils? How can you see without pupils?"

Ash opened his mouth to respond and closed it again quickly, his frown deepening. "I don't know. Look, Misty, I didn't come up here to—"

"Well now that you _are_ here, and now that you're at least halfway okay again, you're going to," Misty interrupted firmly. "I've gone long enough without any answers, and I'm _dying_. So. Where does the brown in your eyes come from? I know yellow is your Element and black is like, an Elemental's default color, but what's brown?"

Ash looked highly uncomfortable. He shifted uneasily on her bed and started picking at the edge of the gauze on his wrists as if it itched him. "I don't know. I never really thought about it before. I—"

"Maybe it's your natural color?" Misty suggested. Ash looked at her.

"Maybe..."

"It's a pretty color, if it is. Sort of like milk chocolate." Ash looked away again at her comment, and Misty could detect the faintest hint of a blush flash across the bridge of his nose and over the tips of his ears. She smiled; she'd always thought that was cute in guys. Then she remembered her next question. "What about Pikachu? How did the he become your partner-thing?"

"My what? I don't know; I don't remember. Listen, Misty, I really don't want to—"

"I don't care," Misty broke in cheerfully. "So how did you meet Gary? Why does he hate you so much, and how does he know so much about you if you're enemies?"

Ash's face darkened. Misty wondered if she'd asked something wrong, or if he was going to brush her off and leave again like he used to. But then, "I don't know why he hates me so much. Mom said his grandfather hated my dad, but his grandfather _killed_ my dad, so I don't know what he's got against me. Those damn handcuffs were meant to kill _me_. Mom thinks whatever they did is keeping me from healing properly—"

"You're not healing properly?"

Ash looked at her suddenly, startled, and she knew as well as if he'd blatantly told her that he hadn't meant to say that. Her questions faded to the back of her mind, replaced by newer and more urgent ones.

"What's not healing properly? Your wrists? Your electricity? But how can that get sick? What'll happen to you if you can't fix it? And what's wrong with you _now_?"

Ash looked trapped. "I don't know what's wrong, Misty. But really, that's not why I'm here. I came to tell you—"

"You had me terrified, Ash," said Misty quietly, her eyes on her hands as they twisted in her lap. Ash stared at her. "The way you looked in that cell...I thought something was really wrong. And I was right, wasn't I?" She looked up to meet his startled eyes—still through those damn glasses—and added, "Something's wrong with you."

He held her gaze for a moment, then ducked his head and picked at his bandages again. "I'm fine. I just need to take it easy for a while, I think, and that'll be hard soon, which is why I'm here. But I meant to apologize for the other day. I don't know exactly what I said to you in there, but I'm sure it wasn't good. And—Brock Slate was there too, wasn't he?" Misty nodded.

"He helped me get out of Rudi's suite so I could help you," she told him. "I'm sorry I told him about you, but I'm glad I did. He won't tell anyone, Ash—he told me you helped him once, back when a cave in the Rock arena collapsed on him. He never forgot it."

Ash was nodding, but he wasn't meeting her eyes. "Mom said she's glad you told him. She said you needed someone to tell."

Misty's mind flashed to Rudi, and she felt a stab of guilt in her chest. But she was determined not to keep any secrets from Ash, if she didn't want him to keep any more from her. So she looked at her hands and said quietly, "I told someone else, too." She was startled to see Ash continue nodding.

"Rudi, I know. And I can't blame you for that. It was my fault, really, for scaring you off like I did. I should have calmed you down or something. I just didn't think..." He trailed off quietly, then sighed and glanced up at her quickly. "You did what anyone in your position would do, and he did what anyone in his position would do, and I can't...It was mostly my fault anyway."

"No it wasn't Ash," Misty told him forcefully. "It was mine, and I know it, and I can't tell you how sorry I am for it. And I don't care now that he knows what I did for you; I'd rather have you safe and him mad at me than you dead and things fine and dandy between us."

Ash was staring at his fingers intently. He was silent for a moment before he said quietly, "So he did figure it out, then. Mom hoped he wouldn't."

"I really don't care, Ash." Misty was struggling not to show how close she was to crying after thinking about Rudi again, but she really _didn't_ care. Not if the alternative was a dead Ash. Ash refused to look at her.

"Mom says you risked his...you risked _him_ to help me," he said softly. "She says you risked everything to help me."

Misty's chest lurched. She wondered why he needed his mother to tell him these things. "Of course I did, Ash. And I'd do it again, too. I—" She stopped suddenly, startled by the realization of what she'd been about to say. She what, exactly? What was he to her? Was he a friend, or was he something else entirely? Something more like...Rudi?

"I know." Ash's voice was just above a whisper. "I know that now. And I think..."

"What, Ash?" Misty prompted him gently. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

"I think...Well, things are going to change, I think. They're going to get more dangerous, now that the headMasters have seen me. They can't catch a rumor, but an actual Elemental..."

Misty frowned. Just what was he trying to say? "And?"

"And, well...I think maybe we should stop meeting like this."

Misty stared at him, shocked. Her chest tightened painfully, and her mind retraced his words like they were a scratched CD. Ash glanced quickly at her, oblivious, and took a deep breath. He let it out in a long, heavy sigh.

"It's what I came up here to tell you. You only have two more months here, after all, and I don't think...well, I don't think it's fair for me to jeopardize your Training over something as trivial as, well, _Training_. You don't need it anyway; your Pokémon are more than strong enough for you to pass your final exams as they are now."

"What are you saying, Ash?" Misty asked him, horrified of the implications. Ash met her eyes and shrugged, then quickly looked away again.

"I just think it'll be safer for you if we don't meet anymore—"

"_Mew!_" Misty cried loudly, and Ash looked up at her, startled. She glared at him as furious tears gathered once again in her eyes. "Why is everyone so concerned for my goddam safety?" she demanded angrily. "Why doesn't anyone think I'm capable of taking care of myself? Why does everyone think I need to be _protected_—"

"I think you're perfectly capable," Ash interjected quickly. "More than capable. I just don't want to risk it—"

"It's not up to just you, Ash!" Misty all but screamed. "Some of that decision is rightfully mine, and I say _no_!"

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Ash hurriedly. He was looking away from her again. "Gary's gonna be pretty angry with both of us when he recovers from those Tentacool, assuming he recovers at all, and he'll—"

"I don't _care_, Ash!" Misty told him furiously. First Rudi and now him? What had she done to make herself look so weak and helpless? "I don't care about _Gary_, and I don't care about _Rudi_, and I don't even care about graduation! So don't you _dare_ try to shove me away to 'save' me or 'protect' me, because I don't want it!"

Ash was staring at his hands again. "I just don't think I'm worth the risk, Misty. I'm not trying to, I dunno, run away or anything. I just don't think—"

"Ash, walking away from me now would be much worse than anything Gary could come up with." She was struggling to keep her voice even and strong, struggling to _make him understand_. "I don't want to just forget everything so I can graduate safely and leave. I don't want to never see you again just because of some damn risk, and I don't want—Dammit, Ash, would you _look_ at me?" She grabbed his head, ignoring the shock that rocked her fingers, and forced his startled eyes up to hers. Glaring into his glasses, she said with all the fury she could muster, "You're _worth_ the risk, you idiot."

And then she kissed him.

She wasn't sure why, and she wasn't sure what made her do it, but feeling those dry, cracked lips pressed against her own brought out a wave of emotions in her that Rudi's had never so much as hinted at. Even in that split second it took for her to realize what she was doing, she I>knew /I> it was right; she could feel it stir something inside her, and she doubted it was a part of the static shock that cracked from his mouth to hers.

And then it was over, in only the briefest of moments. She jerked back and Ash jerked back, and he all but toppled from the bed. He was staring at her with wide, incredulous eyes, and Misty felt a hint of doubt creep in over her elated rush. What had she just done? _Why_ had she done it? What was going through Ash's head now that it was done?

Why couldn't she bring herself to take it back?

He licked his lips and swallowed nervously, his eyes darting quickly around the room. "I um—I have to go."

Misty's eyes widened when he moved. "Wait! Ash!"

But he was already out the door with that blurring speed of his, and when Misty yanked it open behind him she could only catch the hint of a shadow as it breezed across the top of a wall. She stared into the dark rafters while her heart beat madly, both over the active memory of that brief kiss and the way he'd reacted to it. Slumping weakly against the door, she banged her head against the hard wood and bit back worried tears.

What had she just done?

**X**

Ash didn't return that night. Misty wasn't surprised, but still. She'd hoped...

She gave up on her homework. Her mind was too filled with worry over the sheer amount, and over the stupidity that seemed to have seeped somehow into her brain over the last week. First she'd lied to Rudi, and then she'd...she'd _kissed_ Ash. Just what the hell was she thinking? She'd somehow managed to completely obliterate any chance she had with both of the men she loved in a matter of two small days.

_Both_...That thought was still strange to Misty. But she did love Ash, didn't she? And not like Brock; not anything like a big brother or a friend. Well, not a _regular_ friend. But still. Mew. Where had that come from? Not one week ago she'd been dancing on tiptoes over finally kissing Rudi—and was he even gone? He hadn't _really_ broken up with her, and here she'd gone and kissed Ash...

She'd kissed Ash. She had _kissed Ash_. What the _hell_ was wrong with her? She didn't just randomly kiss people like that!

What if Rudi was only mad at her? What if he hadn't wanted to end anything; what if he'd just wanted her to know how disappointed he was, how hurt over her deception? Was she supposed to tell him she'd kissed Ash, or lie to him _again_? And what about Ash? Was she supposed to tell him she was sorry? That she'd never do it again, and could they please just forget everything and go back to the way things were?

But what if she didn't want to? What if she _wanted_ to kiss him again?

How could she possibly be in love with two people at once?

"Mew, Totodile..." She sighed heavily and hugged the young Pokémon, who cooed gently and nuzzled the base of her neck. She was so upset over her mess of a love life that for once she didn't care if she was caught with a Pokémon loose in her room. "I think I really screwed things up," she told the crocodile gently. "I think I ruined everything..."

Ash would never face her again. And how would she ever face him? He _hated_ physical contact, had shied away from her touch for as long as she'd known him. And even when he did touch her, it was always for only the briefest of moments, and then he'd yank himself away as if burned. He was always so on edge around her; the only time she'd seen him look truly comfortable was when he was busy with a Pokémon and had forgotten she was in the same room.

Misty had always wondered about that. He was never comfortable when people were near, like he was afraid of getting caught. But who knew enough about him to hunt him? The headMasters had seemed surprised when they saw him in Arena Five. Was there someone else? Someone above them? _Who?_ And were they after her now? After Brock? Misty's stomach lurched. It was her fault Brock was in this mess. If he was expelled because of her not two months from his graduation...He'd wanted to be a Breeder for so long...

Her throat burned, and she felt warm tears leak from the corner of her eyes. Totodile smelled them and looked up at her curiously, bright green eyes crinkled with worry. Misty could only see a large bluish blur where he was curled in her lap. "I've messed up everything," she told him weakly. Totodile reached his tiny arms up for a proper hug. Misty held him tightly and tried not to notice the large ache eating away at her chest. "Ash is terrified of me now, and Rudi thinks I betrayed him...and I _did_ betray him! And then I did it again! Even if he does still love me, how can he—" Her voice broke. He loved her...He'd told her he _loved_ her, and...she loved him. And she loved Ash, maybe just as much. Maybe more. And she didn't know what the hell she was supposed to do now that she'd screwed things up between _both_ of them.

She berated herself until after nearly three in the morning, when she finally managed to slip into a fitful sleep. Totodile coiled up against her stomach and breathed softly against the bottom of her chin, trying to cheer her up. He heard the knock on her door a little after her breathing had evened out, but he didn't wake her up for it; he figured she'd had enough of people for one day.

**X**

Brock figured Misty would be tired and maybe even asleep, so he knocked quietly. When she didn't answer he shrugged stiffly and started off for his own room. He was bursting to tell her about his amazing night with Suzie, but he figured she could wait until tomorrow; maybe by then she'd feel a little better.

Finding Ash waiting for him in his room was the _last_ thing he expected.

"Mew!" he yelped when he caught sight of the Elemental standing nervously in the far corner. He'd closed and locked his door and was halfway across his room before he'd even noticed. Ash was standing mostly in shadow with his arms crossed.

"Sorry." Ash offered a tiny smile, his gaze darting around the room. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses; Brock wondered if he could see in the dark with them.

"What are you doing here?" Brock winced. He hadn't meant to sound harsh, but it was late and this damn costume was itchy and hot and he had _not_ planned on running into an Elemental in his room.

"I just came to say thanks." Ash licked his lips uneasily, then quickly added, "And um, sorry. For, I dunno, the trouble. You won't have to worry about me anymore though; now that Gary's awake and Rudi knows what you and Misty did I won't risk seeing her anymore, or you, so—"

"Wait," Brock interrupted, confused. "You're not gonna see Misty anymore? Have you told her this?" If he had, Brock doubted she would have taken it well. After all, Rudi had just left her, and he suspected Ash was one of the few things keeping her going. Maybe the only thing. It was obvious she really cared about him.

Ash looked anxiously around the room. "Uh, yeah. I did. So yeah, I have to go—" He made to leave, but Brock stopped him with a hand on his shoulder before he could pass. Ash jumped back at his touch and hastily crossed his arms again, gaze flicking quickly from Brock's dresser to his closet. Brock frowned. Something was off. He didn't know Ash all that well, but something about him was just..._off_.

"Hang on a second. Why are you so jittery? Did something happen? And what did Misty say when you talked to her?" She couldn't have taken it well, he knew.

"No. Nothing. Just—nothing. I have to go."

Brock stopped him again, and again he jumped back. Yes, something was _definitely_ off about him. He looked a little pale and...Was he sweating? But it was freezing in Brock's room! He hadn't had the heat on since noon!

"Would you wait a minute?" he demanded, and Ash took a step back. Brock followed him, and desperately wished he had chosen a costume a little more respectable than a giant stalk of broccoli. He didn't think it was very intimidating. "Why are you so frightened of me? I already promised Misty I wouldn't tell anyone about you, and I meant it. I'm as trustworthy as she is."

"It's not—I'm not—" He looked panicked. His eyes kept darting to the door.

"Just sit down for a minute, okay? Relax. I swear, you're worse than Misty."

Ash flinched each time he heard Misty's name, and Brock's eyes narrowed. Something had happened between them. But what it could have possibly been to rile him up so much? Was it only Misty, or had something else happened as well? Brock's stomach lurched. They hadn't been found out by the headMasters, had they?

Ash was shaky and pale. "Would you sit down?" Brock asked him, irritated. "You look ready to fall over. Are you still sick? Can I get you anything? I have some mineral water from Misty left over in the fridge—" Again, that barely perceptible cringe at her name. Now Brock was glaring at him. "What happened?" he demanded.

Ash's eyes were on the door. "Nothing happened," he said quickly—too quickly, and Brock's frown deepened.

"Something happened," he said skeptically. "Tell me what."

Ash's nervousness had increased tenfold in the last few minutes. Brock's apprehension grew. "Nothing happened! We just—I just—nothing! Now I have to go—"

This time Brock stepped in front of him, and Ash was forced to take a few steps back. Brock followed as he said angrily, "Is it the costume? Because I would ignore the costume if I were you. Now, _something_ happened between you and Misty, and by the way you're acting I'm guessing it's not good. Which is bad. Misty's under enough stress as it is, what with her Masters cracking down on her and keeping you secret and dealing with her breakup with Rudi—"

"She broke up with Rudi?"

Brock paused. Ash's eyebrows were raised high above his glasses, his eyes wide. He hadn't known? "Actually, he sort of broke up with her. She didn't tell you?"

"I—no, I—She said he was _mad_ at her, but I didn't think...Was it over me? Oh Mew, I hope it wasn't over me..."

Brock stared. A small suspicion was beginning to form in the back of his mind. "You?" he asked carefully, curious. "What about you?" His mind was racing. Misty had been seeing him nearly every day for weeks on end now. That was more than she saw Rudi. But she'd never mentioned...unless she didn't know either; she'd never really been able to recognize subtle changes in her emotions. In her mind she either liked you or she didn't. But then Rudi...

Ash took another step back from him, licking his lips nervously. Brock saw that they were cracked. Definitely still sick then. But what had he said to Misty? What had she said to make him so edgy?

"Well I just thought...I mean, I know he knows what you guys did—"

"For _you_," Brock reminded him. He didn't seem to understand his own importance. "We did all that for _you_. _She_ did all that for you. She risked everything for you—"

"I know!" he burst out suddenly. "I know! And now she should back off before she gets hurt, or Gary—"

"You didn't tell her that, did you?" Brock asked, horrified. Ash swung his gaze up from Brock's stuffed Shellder to his eyes.

"Well, yeah, I—"

"Oh, Mew." Brock took a step back and leaned wearily against his dresser, teetering slightly when a handle caught on one of his branches. He held back the sudden urge to hit Ash, who was evidently completely oblivious, because he was staring at Brock in curious apprehension.

"What? I just told her it would be safer—"

"She doesn't _want_ safe, Ash," Brock broke in forcefully. "She's not one of those girls who hangs out with guys for their protection."

"I know that," said Ash nervously. "I _know_ that. I just—"

"If you just want her to be safe, I can offer you a few places to stick your concern. She doesn't want it. Forcing it on her will only make her feel weak. She likes to do things on her _own_. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

"Of course I have." Ash's voice was defiant, but it also sounded a little pleading. "I know that about her. I wouldn't have agreed to help her Train if I didn't think she could at least take care of herself. But why can't she listen to _reason_? If it was dangerous around me before it's a hundred times worse now, and I—" Realization dawned on Brock and he cut him off sharply.

"Is that what this is about? She won't let you ditch her?" Ash frowned.

"I'm not 'ditching' her—"

"That's how she sees it. In case you haven't noticed, Ash, she doesn't have a lot of friends here. She's incredibly independent—you know her entire family died when she was eleven, don't you?" Ash nodded, his brows knitted in a pained expression. "Then you should know that she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and that she doesn't want it any other way. Hell, Ash, I _agree_ with you; I think it's way too dangerous for you two to keep up what were doing before. But she won't accept that just because you tell her she should. What few friends she has she _keeps_, and she does it for a reason." He paused, and offered Ash a sly grin. "Honestly, she's kind of bullheaded; she won't listen to reason even when it's staring her in the face. It's kind of annoying, isn't it?"

Ash's eyes were on the ground. He slowly sank down to perch on the very corner of Brock's bed, drawing one leg up against his chest and curling his hands around the mattress's edges lightly. His posture looked like he was ready to bolt at any moment, but his expression said otherwise.

"Why won't she listen to me?" he asked softly. "Why does she have to...to care so much? I'll only get her hurt, or expelled, or both—maybe even killed. I don't know. I don't think she understands the danger she's in."

"Probably not," Brock agreed. He struggled to pull his hands into his costume so that he could lift the top half over his head, shivering pleasantly when the cool air wafted across his sweaty skin. "But," he added as he struggled out of the bottom, "misunderstandings have never stopped her before. And caring's just part of her nature. I don't think she thinks so, but I do."

"Still," Ash argued stubbornly. "I'm not worth her _dying_. Zapdos. I'm not even fully human—"

"Oh, bah." Ash looked up at him, startled. Brock ran a hand through his damp hair and stared back. "Since when has she cared about humanity? Mew, she almost got killed over her goddam Totodile. Or don't you remember? And she could have at least been expelled for helping you. Besides," he added thoughtfully, "I don't think she thinks of you any different, even if you _aren't_ fully human. Which I think she thinks you are. Somehow. I don't know; I don't pretend to know anything about it. But I'm telling you, Ash, if you could have heard the panic in her voice when she didn't know what the headMasters had done with you...Human, or not, she doesn't care any less. She's just Misty that way."

Ash looked pained. He stared at the floor until Brock moved to sit beside him on the bed, when he flinched away for a moment before obviously forcing himself not to move. Brock decided not to say anything; if his jumpiness wasn't just from Misty he couldn't do anything about it.

After a moment of silence Ash glanced at him. "Do you think there's some way to just..._make_ her understand? What would she do if I just disappeared? She'd have no decision in it then."

"Oh, she'd hate you," Brock answered easily. "Forever. She'd never forgive you for leaving her like that. She'd also worry about you every day, since she would have no way of knowing if you were safe or not, and if she ever saw you again she would probably kill you, then hold your dead body and apologize and demand that you come back right now before she kills you again. She's the only person I know who can simultaneously scowl and smile at the same time, and at the same person. I call it the Misty Enigma."

Ash didn't return Brock's smile. Brock watched him carefully, and all those questions he'd asked himself when Misty had told him Ash's secret bubbled up again in his mind. Now that he knew Ash a little better he could throw out some of the dirtier implications—Misty was a good enough judge of character for that—and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Ash wasn't doing it all for her. Or maybe he was, but his reasons for doing so ran slightly...deeper.

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

Ash looked up at him uneasily. "Why? What is it?"

"Do you love her?"

He went rigid. Brock watched him carefully, and drew his own conclusions.

"It would make a lot of sense if you did," he said softly, "and I wouldn't blame you. She's...unique. If you don't, though...Why have you given her so much of your attention? I mean, there are plenty of other people in the Stadium who need loads more help then Misty. Why—"

"Because!" Ash blurted frantically. "I don't—I mean, I _can't_, she's just—we're just—How could I? How could _she_? I mean, she's—she's _Misty_, and I'm just...I'm...I don't know. What's _wrong_ with her? How could she just...And after she knows I'm—that I—I mean, maybe _before_, but—_Raikou!_" he swore angrily. "Everyone else just ran away and that was the end of it! Why is she making everything so _difficult_? Why can't she just accept what I am like everyone else, instead of—of—_Mew!_"

Brock hadn't fully understood that. He didn't try to. Ash looked so fidgety and flustered that he doubted if even _he_ knew what he was saying. But a few things...

"Instead of what?" he prodded gently. Nearly ten years of Misty's friendship had taught him to handle emotional time bombs with care, and Ash was anything but calm right now. He watched as Ash lowered his eyes to the floor, then quickly glanced up again, then to the side, then—Mew, what was _wrong_ with him?

"Nothing," said Ash quickly. "Instead of nothing. I should go. I need to go."

"Did Misty say something to you?" Brock could tell by the look on his face that she probably had. He wondered if it had anything to do with what they'd just discussed. "What? Because if it was something harmful you're taking it way too seriously. Misty hardly ever means what she says in a fight."

"It wasn't really a—a _fight_." Ash licked his lips again nervously, eyes darting all around the floor. Brock hadn't known his room was so interesting.

"Well then what was it? Because it was obviously _something_."

"It wasn't—it's not—"

"Did she slap you? She does that sometimes."

"What? No. No, she—"

"Hit you? With her actual hand? Those hurt more."

"_No_, she didn't—"

"Did she call you something? Her vocabulary can get pretty intense."

"_No_, dammit—"

Brock appreciated his time with Misty; he now considered himself an expert at working flustered people. "Well what, then? If she didn't hurt you and she didn't insult you then what else could she have possibly—"

"_Nothing!_" Ash exploded. "She didn't do anything! She should have done something and she didn't! I just, I don't _understand_ her! One minute she's yelling at me and the next she—she's—and I don't understand why she would ever—"

Almost. "She what? Tell me, Ash—"

"She _kissed_ me, Brock!" he all but screamed, and Brock drew back, shocked. "She kissed me! _Me!_ And I'm—I'm not even—_Why?_ She knows I'm a—a _demon_, and she still—and Rudi! I thought she was in love with _Rudi_! How can she just—like it's no big deal, like I'm no big deal, like I'm _normal_, and just—and then—_I don't understand her!_ She makes no _sense_! How could she have done that? To _me_?"

Brock was speechless. Misty had kissed Ash? As in, _kissed_ him? Mew. He knew she was impulsive, but she'd never just _kissed_ someone before. She wasn't a flirt, and she wasn't a huge fan of the touchy-feely department. Which meant...what, exactly? Why would she do something like that without provocation? Unless...but there was still Rudi to consider...

Mew. No wonder she'd been such a wreck the day before. Brock had had no idea.

Well. Maybe a slight suspicion. But barely, and he hadn't really thought seriously on it.

Ash looked a wreck. Brock wondered about him; he didn't look anywhere near prime condition, and Misty's...behavior...had obviously shaken him up pretty badly. He supposed it would, though; the way Ash had been talking, Brock wondered if anyone had so much as dared hug him before, let alone grab him and—

Yeah, that was probably right. He could see Misty doing it, especially if Ash had fed her that nonsense about her security. But still; he was an _Elemental_. They weren't exactly, well, _human_, or even remotely like normal people for that matter—

Brock stopped himself at that thought. He sighed. Since when had Misty ever cared about normal?

"I don't know what to do anymore, Brock." Ash was leaning his head against his curled knee. He looked as weary as Brock had ever seen him. "I'm not—I can't—but I don't want to just _leave_ her. Am I selfish for wanting to put her in danger just so I can be happy? I think that's selfish."

Brock thought a minute before replying. He was desperately trying to think of what was best for Misty here, and he was well aware of the fact that she wouldn't like his interference. But if he could help her...

"I think that depends on the definition of selfish," he said slowly. "Which is worse: To abandon someone who obviously doesn't want to be abandoned, or to put them in harm's way in order to make them happy? I think it's a matter of opinion."

Ash fixed him with a pained expression. "I don't know what to do, Brock. I'm so confused. And what am I...I mean, _Mew_, what do I say to her next time I see her? What do I _do_?"

"Apologize, first" Brock told him seriously. "You ran away, didn't you?" Ash didn't meet his eyes. Brock didn't need a further explanation.

"I was surprised," he admitted, "and scared, a little. No one's ever...I didn't know what to do."

Brock studied him for a moment. He hoped he was making the right decision here. "Do you want to know what _I_ think you should do?" Ash looked at him apprehensively.

"What?"

"Next time? Kiss her back."

**X**


	14. And Now, How You've Repaid Me

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act iii Stage iii**

_"And now, how you've/ repaid me/denied me / and betrayed me..."_

_Totodile nudged Misty awake much earlier than she would have liked._

She cracked sticky eyes open and stared at him, her mind still stuck in the throes of her last dream. Something about a...what was it again? It had been nice.

"Dile, totodile, dile." He patted her awkwardly on the forehead and pointed to her alarm clock. It took a moment for Misty's eyes to focus on the numbers. Only eight? She groaned.

"Oh, boy, no. It's way too early. Can't you wait another couple hours for breakfast? I'm too tired to—"

She was interrupted by a knock on her door. Totodile watched her expectantly; by the sound of the knock, it hadn't been the first. But who—

She was out of bed immediately, wincing as she shocked herself on the sheets, then the doorknob. She didn't bother throwing on a robe over her pajamas; Master Drake was, after all, one of the last people she expected to see beaming at her from the hall. He'd traded his Master's robes for a dark maroon leather jacket over a plain black shirt and dark jeans. Misty stared. Without the thick, draping fabric to hide his frame his resemblance to Ash was uncanny.

"Hello," he said cheerfully. "Did I wake you up? I'm sorry; I was trying to catch you before you disappeared for breakfast. Care to join me?"

Misty stared. She'd had the occasional meal with her Masters before, but never—one had never shown up at her door unexpectedly and asked her out to breakfast! Mew, he must have been what, twenty years older than her? More? Why would he...

"I know you have a lot of homework," Drake said when she didn't respond. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about that.

How are you doing? Handling it okay?"

"Um..." Misty was struggling to kick her brain back into gear. "Yeah, I'm doing okay. And breakfast...sure. Can I get dressed first?"

Drake smiled. "Of course. Meet me downstairs in half an hour?"

"Okay."

He ended up taking her to a busy restaurant a few blocks from the Stadium. Misty was surprised; she hadn't expected to actually _leave_. But Drake had led her through the doors as if it were the most normal thing in the world, apparently unaware that students and teachers did _not_ meet outside Stadium walls. Misty wondered why he wanted to see her. Was she failing his class? She'd been under the impression that she was doing fairly well. Dragons were interesting, after all. It wasn't hard to attend class and pay attention to his lessons.

"Not hungry?" Drake asked from over his thick plastic menu. Misty had only ordered a coffee. "You don't have to worry about the prices; everything's on me."

Misty hated that phrase. "Um, thank you. I'm really not, though. Too early." Actually, memories of the night before were still fresh in her mind, and she thought food might make her sick.

"Ah. One of _those_ people, eh? My mother was like you. Too much flavor too early made her sick. We'll wait for the coffee, then; it'll wake you up, and I have a few important things to discuss."

Misty was highly uncomfortable. "Um, Master Drake, what exactly did you—"

"Please, just Drake for now," he interrupted quickly, crinkled blue eyes darting quickly around the thick breakfast crowd. Misty frowned.

"But sir—"

"Not sir," said Drake hurriedly. He leaned forward and spoke in a voice just above a whisper. "Not 'master', not 'sir', not anything. No titles, all right? Not out in the open. It makes people listen. Just think of me as uh...your uncle. Uncle-in-law. Whichever." He smiled at that, as if amused by some unspoken joke, and Misty frowned. He had such an odd sense of humor sometimes; she didn't get this 'no titles' thing at all.

She met his eyes as their coffee arrived. "But aren't we here to discuss my classes?" she protested. "I don't see why it should make any difference if someone heard—"

"Actually, I had a few other things in mind." He leaned back in his seat and signaled the waitress for some sweetener. Misty watched him in confusion. What the hell was he talking about?

"Well...like what? Because I don't know—"

Drake flashed her a confident grin. "I've wanted to talk to you for so long, Misty. You have no idea. But we agreed that secrecy was for the best, at least for a little while. Only instead of getting bored after a while like he usually does, Ash started spending more and more time aboveground and less maintaining the lake below. He seems to have taken an unusual liking to you."

Misty nearly dropped her coffee in shock. "You know _Ash_?" she sputtered, coughing. Drake smiled and offered her his napkin.

"A little. He's my nephew."

**X**

Misty didn't get back to the Stadium until well after ten, and when she did she made a beeline for Brock's room, her heart racing as her mind buzzed over her conversation with Master Drake. Upon boarding the crowded elevator, however, she suddenly found herself standing beside the one person in the world she would have given anything not to be near.

She tried to ignore him, to pretend he wasn't there and that she couldn't feel the clash of butterflies and guilt welling up in her stomach, but it was impossible, and he would have none of it. The doors were still closing behind her when he began shuffling nearer. When his arm brushed hers he leaned over and said softly, "I need to talk to you."

The entire elevator was silent, its occupants obviously curious to find out what Rudi Trovita had to say to the girl everyone knew he'd broken up with. Misty suppressed a cry of frustration when it slowed to a stop on the second floor and a young trio reluctantly took their leave. Hadn't these people heard of _stairs_?

"Well I don't need to talk to you," she replied evenly, her eyes on the closing doors. Though they were both trying desperately, it was impossible to keep their voices down in an elevator. It stopped again on the third floor to admit more people, and Rudi stepped even closer to make room. Misty's heart was pounding. She didn't need this right now. Not after last night, and not after this morning. Mew, of all times, she didn't need this _now_!

"Please, Misty, I've been looking for you all morning." He glanced at the cocked heads and curious eyes of the Trainers all around them and added softly, "Please don't make me beg..."

She could feel half a dozen eyes on her, but it was Rudi's pained gaze that made her nervous. The elevator slid to a stop on her floor and she bumbled her way off of it, unwilling to try for another three. Her uneasiness heightened when she felt Rudi take hold of her arm and follow, but she couldn't bring herself to shake him off. As soon as the elevator doors closed again, however, she broke his grip and whirled on him, eyes flashing.

"_What_. What do you want."

Rudi was startled. He took a small step back and said, "Nothing. I just want to talk. Please, can't we just—"

"We don't have anything to talk about."

That said, Misty turned and strode down the hallway to her door. Rudi's lying, conniving backstabber insult was still fresh in her mind, and she was desperately keeping it there in an attempt to stave off the guilt she felt for lying to him.

And...for kissing Ash.

Mew, she hoped he went away. She hadn't worked out what to say to him about that Ash part yet, and she wasn't eager to try and wing it. She still wasn't sure what she wanted from him anyway. Forgiveness? An apology? A real break-up? Or a make-up?

She didn't dare glance behind her to see if he was following. She reached her door and fumbled for her keys, careful to keep her eyes down as she fought to control her breathing, and nearly cried when a shadow fell over her. A moment later Rudi's warm hands wrapped around her elbows as he stepped up close behind her.

"Please, Misty," he breathed in her ear. "I just want to talk. It's been over two days now."

"What about Ash?" she blurted, and jammed her key into the lock. It took her a moment to realize it was upside-down. She flipped it and tried again, her heart rate quickening as she felt Rudi's grip tighten.

"What about Ash?" he repeated. Misty realized that talking to Rudi about Ash would not be beneficial to anyone right now, and hastily switched topics.

"Look, Rudi, I have a lot of homework to catch up on, and I really don't want to have this conversation right now—"

"I miss you," he said softly, and sighed. Misty paused in the act of opening her door and slumped a little. This time she was unable to block the wave of guilt and longing that washed through her, and Rudi felt it.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I was going to wait awhile before I came to see you again, but I just...I can't, you know? I can't even stay mad at you." He laughed shortly, painfully, and Misty's chest ached. "D'you know, I actually feel guilty about what happened? I thought about it all day Friday and yesterday, about you and me, and by the time I went to bed all I could think about was apologizing to you. I don't even know what for: For yelling at you? For saying the things I did?" He sighed and pulled her closer, and Misty didn't have the heart to stop him. "All I know," he breathed in her ear, "is that I love you, and I can't stand that I hurt you. Please, can you forgive me?"

Misty's couldn't respond. Of course she forgave him; she _loved_ him. And yet she'd lied to him, and used him, and...and _cheated_ on him...And here he was, poor Rudi who was only trying to help, who went out of his way to keep her safe—and was it really his fault he couldn't understand?—and he still loved her even after all that, and now he...he wanted _her_ forgiveness...

Misty's gaze dropped to the floor. Her arm fell away from the doorknob, her key abandoned in the lock, and she knew Rudi could feel her start to shake.

"Misty?" His hands moved to her shoulders and he gently tugged her around to face him. "Are you all right? Lugia, I didn't mean to—"

"_I'm sorry!_" she blurted suddenly, and collapsed against his chest, shaking as the guilt she'd been struggling to suppress for days now finally boiled over and swamped her.

Rudi's arms were pressing her tightly against him in an instant. She allowed herself to sink into his warmth as he wrapped her up in a fierce hug, his heart beating madly through his shirt. She felt ready to burst, and she couldn't stop the tears that began pouring out.

"I'm so sorry, Rudi," she managed to murmur between sobs. "Mew, I'm so sorry. I never should have—have—"

"Oh, Misty, hush," he shushed her, and pulled away far enough to look into her eyes. He brushed away her hair and drew his face down level with hers. "You don't have to apologize to me," he told her softly, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. He drew her close again when they were replaced by a fresh wave, and kissed her head fervently, then the spot just in front of her ear, then her cheek, then, before Misty knew what was happening, he was holding her tightly and kissing her fiercely, and her mind was a whirlwind of feelings and sensations that she couldn't even begin to identify.

"I love you so much," he told her breathlessly, his fingers trembling, tumbling through her hair. "Tell me we'll never fight like that again. Lugia, tell me—" He never finished, because suddenly he was kissing her again, and Misty was pressed tightly between him and her hard wooden door, and she realized suddenly that she couldn't kiss him back.

Rudi realized this too, and he drew away after a moment to ask her what was wrong. Misty couldn't answer him. She leaned heavily against the door and ducked her head in an attempt to hide her tears from him, but he lifted her chin with his thumb and studied her face in confusion. It didn't take him long to realize they weren't the same tears as before.

"What is it?" he asked her softly. He frowned, suddenly uneasy, and tried to wipe them away, but they wouldn't stop. He dipped his head to kiss her again, gently, but Misty didn't let him. She couldn't let him. Rudi pulled back and looked at her.

"Misty, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly. "Please, if you don't tell me I can't—"

"Don't," she told him softly, and he froze, looking down in confusion at the hand pushing back on his chest.

"What—"

"Don't," she repeated weakly, and wiped at her face with her free hand. Her chest ached and it was difficult to breathe. Rudi made to hold her again, but she pushed him away. She wanted to let him—felt the longing for his tough pooling deep in her gut—but she couldn't. She just _couldn't_.

Rudi was breathing heavily, but he didn't try to approach again. Instead he wrapped the hand on his chest with both of his own and raised it to kiss, but Misty pulled it out of his grasp. His frown deepened.

"Misty, what's wrong with you? Why won't you let me—"

"I can't," she said unsteadily, and fumbled for the doorknob. Rudi caught her hand as it brushed the keys hanging from the lock and held it tightly.

"Wait a second, Misty, what are you—"

"I have to go." She didn't know what else to do. She wanted to let Rudi hold her, let him kiss her and love her, but she just...she _couldn't_. It wasn't right—_he_ wasn't right. His lips were too smooth, his hands too soft. He didn't smell right, didn't taste right, didn't _feel_ right.

"Now wait a second." He refused to release her hand when she tugged for it back, and instead forced her to meet his stern gaze. "Just wait a second, Misty, please. What's going on? What's wrong? You were fine just a minute ago—"

"Let me go," she said desperately, trying to pull her hand free. His grip tightened and his eyes flashed.

"Why? What are you running from? Is it something I said? Did I do something to frighten you—"

"No, I just—I can't—Let me _go_..."

He drew her closer instead. "Why won't you let me kiss you?" he asked her heatedly. He tried to cup her cheek with his hand, but she pulled her head away. "Why won't you let me touch you? Misty...can't you see how much I love you?"

Her eyes welled with a fresh surge of tears. She couldn't face him anymore and lowered her gaze to stare furiously at the floor. Her entire body felt heated and painfully tight; her heart barely had room to beat, or her lungs to draw air. She felt suffocated.

Rudi drew a shuddering breath and slammed his palm suddenly against the door beside Misty's head, startling her. She met his eyes again and was surprised to find him glaring at her.

"What—"

"It's that Elemental, isn't it?" He didn't wait for a confirmation. "I should have known. _Dammit_, I should have known! What is it about him, Misty? What do you see in him that you can't find in me? I've loved you since I was a _child_, and he—_Lugia_! He's not even _human_!"

Misty stared, stunned. How did he know she had feelings for Ash? She'd never told him; hadn't even figured it out herself until last night—

"You can't possibly love him, Misty," he told her firmly. "He's a freak of nature. Dammit, you know the stories! They _possess_ people! He's only taking advantage of you, making you _think_ you have feelings for him so he can...Look, I don't know what he's planning, but what you're feeling, Misty, it's not _real_!"

Misty felt her temper spark somewhere deep inside her. She repressed it, told herself how much doing this to him was hurting him, and forced herself not to back down.

"I'm sorry, Rudi, but I just can't—"

"Can't what?" he demanded, his hand curling into a fist on the door. "Can't love me? Since when? You told me there was no one else, remember? Or was that a lie too?"

A pang of guilt sliced through Misty. Rudi saw it and pounced.

"So it was, was it? What about our evenings together? Our conversations? Were those lies too?"

"_No_," Misty told him forcefully. "I didn't lie to you, Rudi, I swear. I meant everything I said—"

He laughed, a harsh, bark-like one that made Misty pause. "You swear, huh? And since when has your word meant anything between us? You were prepared to use me to lie to the headMasters; why should I believe you weren't just using me all along?"

"Because I _wasn't_," Misty snapped, stung that he believed her capable of that.

"Then what were you doing? Why would you lead me to believe you..." His voice broke, and Misty barely resisted the urge to reach out to him. She hated this, hated what she was doing to him, but she couldn't back down. Her chest was hollow now, though her heart still felt constricted. She embraced the hollowness, used it to force back the guilt and heartache threatening to overwhelm her at the knowledge of what she was doing. And was it really for the best? What _was_ she doing? If she shoved Rudi away now, there was no guarantee that Ash would take his place later. There was no guarantee that she would ever see him again, really. She could be ruining any chance she had at happiness.

But to let Rudi love her when his lips felt like that...Wasn't lying to him worse than hurting him?

"Misty," he said wearily, "what are you doing? Why are you shoving me away? I know we can be happy together. I don't feel for anyone else what I've always felt for you—and believe me, that's not for lack of trying." He tried to smile at her, but it was weak and didn't last long. Instead he took a deep breath and lowered his eyes. "I can make you happy. Please, just give me a chance to make you happy. Don't end this before it starts. That Elemental, he—" He stopped and frowned, then met her eyes. "There's nothing there for you, Misty. Even if—if you _do_ love him, what are you going to do? He's not human. He can't work; can't even leave the Stadium. Are you going to stay here your whole life? You'd be _miserable_. Please, see the reason here. You know I'd do anything for you. _Please_."

Misty did see reason. Rudi was everything she'd ever wanted, and she knew he really meant what he said. She knew she could be happy with him, but...

She didn't want to be. She wanted to be happy with Ash, or not at all. And that thought scared her more than a little.

"I'm sorry," she began, and felt tears spring to her eyes at the look that crossed his face. "I'm sorry, Rudi, I just, I can't..."

"Then it was all a lie," he spit out bitterly, removing his hand from the door and taking a step back. Misty wanted to close the increasing distance between them, to hug him and apologize to him and take it all back, but he was backing away from her, a hand raised to stop her from approaching, and she knew if she stayed in his presence much longer that that was exactly what she would do.

"I'm sorry," she told him again, jerking her keys out of the lock as she pushed her door open. She forced herself not to look at him as she slipped inside and closed it behind her, and when she looked through the peephole a few minutes later he was gone.

She was oddly empty. She felt like she should collapse, scream, cry, do _something_, but the best she could muster was a burning throat severe enough to keep her from swallowing. She laughed harshly, her voice as hollow as her chest, and wondered if she'd simply used all her tears up in the last week. It felt like it. Even her eyes felt dry and vacant.

So she'd permanently broken up with Rudi. So she'd frightened away the only other guy she'd ever loved as much as Rudi. So she'd managed to do both in a matter of hours. So what? She would live, right? She'd never heard of people actually dying from heartache, and anyway, if they could Misty would have killed herself a dozen times over in the last twenty-four hours alone.

When Totodile materialized on the floor at her feet, the only one of her Pokémon that could survive in her room without water and that wouldn't burn the Stadium to the ground, Misty looked down at him and forced a crooked smile.

"I'm going to die alone with you and a hundred cats."

**X**

She expected Brock to come get her for lunch like he usually did, but two o'clock came and went without him, and Misty was able to pick her mountain of homework apart into a few manageable molehills. She found it very easy to concentrate for some reason; it was as if all the emotions that had kept her from focusing had evaporated. In fact, nearly everything inside of her had vanished. She didn't feel tired, despite her lack of sleep, nor did she feel hungry, despite her lack of food. A Red Bull from her mini-fridge around noon kept her going until well after six, when she was interrupted by a knock on her door.

"It's open," she called out without looking up. She could see from the corner of her eye that it was Brock who slipped inside. He whistled when he caught sight of all the open books and notebooks spread around her.

"Been busy, huh? How much did you get done?"

"Most of it."

"Seriously?" Brock's voice was incredulous. "I thought you had like, tons."

"I did." Misty finished the paragraph she'd been working on and leaned back on her bed to stretch, her bones popping and creaking loudly in the quiet room. "I just...understood it today, I guess. The readings didn't seem as hard as they normally are, and I knew all the questions." She shrugged. "I just knew it today. I still have a few hours' worth, but I think I can get it done before it's due."

Brock whistled again, and cleared a spot on her bed to sit down on. Her computer chair was piled three feet high with neglected clothes. "Jeez. Haven't you done anything else today?"

Misty reached under her pillow, where Totodile had been sleeping for the last hour, and gently pulled him out. "Broke up with Rudi."

"_What?_"

Totodile woke up enough to arrange himself in her lap, then promptly fell asleep again. Misty became very interested in the texture of his frills. Small bumps were forming on the back of his head where new ones would grow when he Evolved, and Misty wondered just how close he was.

"Misty, are you serious? I mean, are you okay?"

"Don't I look okay?" she asked him flatly. Brock studied her for a moment, brows creased.

"You look tired. I take it Ash didn't stop by today?"

Misty expected to feel some sort of sadness at that statement, but she didn't. "No, but he came yesterday. Last night, after you and Suzie left."

Brock grunted and leaned back against the wall. "Oh yeah? What'd he say?"

Misty shrugged again. "He wanted to stop seeing me. Said it was too dangerous. For me," she added for clarity.

Another grunt. "Did you tell him to hell with that?"

"Yeah."

"And what'd he say?"

"He...left. I haven't seen him since."

"Oh. Mind if I grab a soda?"

"Go ahead."

"It's the last one."

"I don't care."

Brock shrugged and collapsed back on her bed again, slurping loudly at his drink. "Anything else happen?"

"I found out Drake Pumello is Ash's uncle on his father's side."

Soda went everywhere. This time Misty _did_ feel something. "Aww, Brock! Come on, I have to turn that in! Hurry, help me get it off before it sets in..."

"Wait a minute," he protested, though he was already wiping the liquid off of a random notebook with the bottom of his shirt. "You found out _what_?"

The majority of the offending liquid gone, Misty settled back against the head of her bed and sighed. "He took me out for breakfast this morning. He said he couldn't tell me before because he didn't see the need to; I was just one of a hundred other people Ash helped for a while, then left. But then he said..." There it was. Finally; a sort of heart-wrenching pang as she thought of what she'd screwed up.

"Then he said what?" Brock asked curiously, watching her.

"He said that I was...different."

"Oh yeah? Different how?"

Something about Brock's nonchalant attitude seemed off to Misty, but she was too preoccupied with wiping up the last of his soda without ripping the paper it'd settled on to care.

"He just said that Ash's interest in me was 'unusual'. He said he doesn't get to talk with him much, though, so he wasn't sure I still kept in contact with him until I told him that thing about Gary and the Tentacool when we ran into him on Wednesday. I swear, Brock, if I get points deducted for this..."

"Oh, bah. That's what, something for Master Erika? She doesn't care. So tell me, what else did Drake say about you and Ash?" Misty looked up at him, frowning, and he fixed her with an innocent stare. "What?"

"You're just...weird. Did something happen to _you_ today?"

Brock glared at her for a second before he seemed to suddenly remember something and his expression melted into one of love-struck bliss. "Suzie had lunch with me today, and we talked about Breeding strategies all afternoon," he said wistfully. "It was glorious."

Misty smirked. She felt happy for her friend, but she couldn't suppress the light ache that crept into her chest. Brock didn't seem to notice. He was holding his soda can to his heart and reciting the things he and Suzie had talked about in an exaggerated lovesick voice.

"And then last night, you know, I was taking her back to her room, and you know what she did? Guess what she did. You'll never guess."

"Um...she slapped you when you tried to kiss her?" Again, that pang. Misty resisted the urge to rub her chest.

"No! _She_ kissed _me_! Right here!" He was poking frantically at a spot on his cheek. Misty was actually surprised.

"Really? How was it?"

"_Wonderful!_ I'm gonna marry her one day. I don't care what she says; I'm gonna set up a Breeding Center with her and I'm gonna marry her, and we're gonna be the best damn Breeders in Kanto—or Johto, I haven't decided yet—or maybe I should ask her where she wants to live? Hmm. I know she has family in Celadon, but there's so much competition there..."

Misty had stopped listening. The ache in her chest was restricting her breathing again, and her throat burned. She was happy for Brock and Suzie, she really was, but...jealous as well. He had at least some idea of what he wanted to do after graduation, of how he wanted to live and who he wanted to live with. Misty didn't. Even if Ash were to miraculously forget that stupid kiss, it wasn't like he would want to leave with her next month. And even if he did, for some reason completely foreign to Misty, what would they do? How would they live? Rudi was right; he couldn't leave and she couldn't stay. Either way, one of them would be miserable.

Misty sighed. She felt like the entire world was against her. She'd been happy before Rudi had shown up, and before she'd met Ash. If she could go back and do it all again without them, would she?

Well, she'd be dead if she did; either that or her Totodile would be. But if she had the choice of never meeting Ash or the Ariados, would she? To save herself the heartache and the constant worry? The stress and the frustration?

Probably not, she realized with a small start. She'd learned so much in the time she'd spent with Ash—had changed so much. She'd really grown up. And she—she didn't _dislike_ all those things. Okay, so she could do without the heartache, but she'd brought that on herself. And as for the others, well...he was worth it. Ash was worth all that. She'd rather have gone through it all a hundred times than give him up for a single stress-free semester. Ash was just...worth it.

"What are you thinking about?"

Misty jerked her head up, startled. Brock was watching her with a curious expression on his face. "Nothing, really," she said automatically. She considered telling him about her and Ash, but the memory was still too raw and she wasn't sure what to say.

She'd expected Brock to shrug it off and move on like he normally did, but he frowned instead. "You sure you're okay? Maybe you should quit for the night and go to bed. You look really tired."

"I feel tired," she told him, rubbing her eyes. "Ugh. I hope tomorrow is better than today was."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Ash will show up tomorrow, if he didn't today."

Misty looked at him. "What makes you think that?"

He shrugged. "Why wouldn't he? I have to go; I have another chapter to read in my Ditto book tonight, and I'm not letting Duplica make an idiot of me in class again tomorrow. Catch you for lunch?"

Misty forced a smile. If only he knew. "Sure."

"Suzie might be joining us."

"Even better. 'Night, Brock."

"Later."

He left his empty soda can, the lazy bum. Sighing, Misty forced herself to her feet and threw it away, then picked up her room as best she could, even going so far as to separate the clean clothes from the dirty ones piled onto her chair and hanging them up or throwing them in the vague direction of the laundry basket. The action left her exhausted and she collapsed on her bed fully dressed, moving only far enough to reach beneath her and pull out the pen stabbing her in the back. Totodile crawled up and settled on her chest, his entire body rising and falling with each breath she took, and Misty smiled sadly. At least she had Totodile.

She was still watching him when she slipped into a light sleep, then a deeper one, heavy enough that she didn't awaken when a soft scrabbling sound floated down from somewhere in the ceiling. A square panel lifted out of it above the door and a Pikachu poked its ruffled head out, looked around, then disappeared and replaced it. A moment later the door creaked open and a dark two-headed figure slipped in. There was a pause, then a soft whisper, too weak for even the lightly dozing Totodile to pick up.

"You and Brock had better be right, boy, or I'm gonna get hell for this."

**X**

"So..."

"So."

Gary's throat was still purplish and swollen, but his red-rimmed eyes revealed no hint of pain as he fixed them heatedly on Rudi. "You made it sound like you had a plan," he rasped. "One that didn't involve that wench of yours—"

"Call her that again and I'll make sure that neck brace becomes a permanent fixture," Rudi snapped. Gary rolled his eyes.

"Right. So what is it? What brilliant plan have you come up with in a day that no one here has thought of in the last millennia?"

Rudi resisted the urge to take advantage of the bed-ridden man and crossed his arms instead. "You said you couldn't flush him out, didn't you?"

Gary sighed. "They tried it once over a hundred years ago, but there was a Water Elemental then who just curbed the water. Hence the presence of that marvelous lake. Next idea."

"That wasn't my idea. You people think too small."

"You think too big. You have no idea how deep underground those tunnels go, or how many there are."

"And I don't have to. Do they serve any purpose?"

"What, other than getting everyone lost?" Gary snorted, then winced as the action pulled painfully at his throat. He glared at Rudi. "Of course not. They're a gigantic pain in the ass."

"Then get rid of them."

Gary stared. Then, in an annoyed tone, "Do you not listen to anything I tell you? Don't you have any idea how expensive that would be?"

"Just to collapse them? It can't be too much."

"You don't just _collapse_ stuff like that, you idiot. Those tunnels make up the entire groundwork for the Stadium, as well as everything around it. Cave the wrong section and a quarter of the city is gone."

"Then map it."

"_You_ try mapping it. That bastard's got an arsenal of Pokémon alone, not to mention half-breeds and traps out his goddam hairy ass—"

"Then get him out of there while you do it. The Pokémon won't Attack unless he tells them to, will they?"

"_Yes_. Moron's got them Trained. They're _Pokémon_, you idiot, not stupid beasts."

Rudi shrugged off the insult, determined to get his plan across. The sooner the Elemental was gone, the sooner Misty would come to her senses. "So map it when he's down there. Or don't, I don't care. Just collapse a few sections, ones you know won't do any harm elsewhere, and go from there."

"I don't think you understand what you're dealing with, Trovita. This Elemental has _planned_ for that. Hell, his _ancestors_ have planned for that. Collapsing the underground is the one thing we can't do."

"You're wrong, Oak; it's the one thing we _can_. He's only one man—creature, whatever. The point is, no matter what he's got set up down there, _there's only one of him to keep it up_."

Gary's sharp blue eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"You say he's got traps? Set them off. You say he's got Trained Pokémon? Defeat and capture them. Map as you go. Send out teams constantly. If you do it right, we can get what we need done by Christmas, and then collapse it when the students are out on break." With a bit of luck they could do it over the pre-exam break instead, and then Rudi would have another two weeks to bring Misty around before her graduation.

Gary didn't look convinced. "Constant teams throughout November and December? Do you have any idea how much the men alone will cost? Not to mention that they have to be trained to map _and_ Battle or we'll have to send out one of each, and that'll cost twice as much. I told you before, Trovita, and I'll tell you again now: The headMasters don't have enough incentive to spend that much just to—"

"They won't need to," Rudi cut in. "I'm here, and they'll have the Haruka's support as well."

Gary's eyes narrowed. "The Harukas? What are you talking about?"

Rudi smirked. "Turns out your obsessive stories have actually turned a few heads. I had a small chat with May Haruka and her family earlier—her _rich_ family, which owns most of the Pokémon research laboratories in Johto. Young May claims to have met the Phantom some years ago, and she believes you in that he had something to do with her brother's death. Her parents are on her side. They're appalled that such a creature is allowed to walk freely about the Stadium, and are willing to pay what they have to in order to fix such a problem."

"Really." He paused thoughtfully. "How much?"

"Whatever's needed. Between them, myself, and the Stadium, I'm sure we can come up with something."

Gary eyed him for a moment, then relaxed and closed his eyes, rolling his head back on the pillow so that his neck wasn't twisted. "All right then," he agreed. "You get the money, I'll get the men. By Christmas break, you said?"

Rudi's eyes flashed. "Earlier, if we can."

"How much earlier?"

"The break before exams."

Gary shook his head. "Impossible. But Christmas...I'll see what I can do."

"If we can get the Elemental out of there when we do it he'll be trapped aboveground, and the Stadium could make some money off of him," Rudi suggested. "I understand he's the last of his kind."

Gary looked at him. "One of the last. They can find some other freak for morons to ogle at; when we catch him, Ash is _mine_."

Rudi shrugged. He really didn't care what happened to the Elemental after they had him, just as long as his hold over Misty would be lifted. "Fair enough," he consented. "I have an appointment scheduled with Mr. Haruka for Thursday afternoon. Can you get me an estimate by then?"

"Probably."

"Good." Rudi made to leave, but Gary's raspy voice made him pause. He turned back. "What did you say?"

Gary cleared his throat and tried again. "What's with the change of heart, Trovita? Yesterday you were all hush-hush in case your precious girlfriend caught the blame—which she totally deserves, by the way—and today you want to blow up an entire underground city. Bad day at the office?"

Rudi was amazed that a pained, bed-ridden man could just lie there like that, breathing irregularly through a tube in his nose, and still look so damn smug. He managed to work up a crooked smile. "Let's just say the issue has become a bit more...personal." Gary smirked and turned his head back to stare unseeingly at the paneled ceiling.

"Yeah? Welcome to the club."

**X**


	15. God Give Me Courage

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act iii Stage iv**

"_God give me courage / to show you / you are not / alone..."_

_"Misty? Um, Misty..."_

Something was poking her shoulder. Misty groaned and swatted at it blindly, then curled up into a tighter ball and wondered groggily why her legs were so cold. A moment later she was nearly asleep again, but a whispered conversation taking place somewhere above and behind her made her pause.

"She's ignoring me. Maybe I should just—"

"Pika pikachu."

"What? No! I can't—"

"Pika _pikachu_, Pikapi."

"But—"

"_Pika_."

There was a pause. Misty frowned and tried to force her heavy eyes open as a shadow fell over her. Something warm settled on her shoulder, and an instant later a small electric shock pulsed up and down her arm. Her eyes flew open and she yelped.

"_Mew!_" She hastily shoved herself up into a sitting position, her heart beating wildly. When she saw Ash watching her from the side of her bed she squeaked in surprise and immediately bunched her covers up under her chin. It took her a moment to realize that she was on top of all her covers, and that she was fully dressed.

"I'm sorry," Ash apologized hurriedly. He glanced at Pikachu, who grinned, patted his shoulder once, and clambered down his shirt to drop with a padded thump to the floor. Ash watched him scramble up Misty's dresser with a look of confusion, then horror as he realized what the mouse was doing. He stumbled after him. "Hey—hey, wait! Where are you going? You can't just—"

Pikachu used the light fixture above her desk to crawl up into a dark hole in the ceiling, too small for Ash to follow. His head reappeared again a moment later. He gave Ash a cheeky grin, then vanished and slid the missing panel back into place. Ash stared at it in dismay.

"What are you doing here?" Misty demanded sharply. Her heart was pounding. Ash slowly turned to face her, and seemed to regain some of his composure.

"It's um, ten o'clock—"

"So?" Misty was feeling a little more secure with something clutched to her chest, but not much. Then she glanced down, confused by its unfamiliar texture, and realized it was Ash's jacket. She jerked her head up again; he wasn't wearing it.

"Well I know your first class is at eleven, and I didn't want you to be late or anything—"

"How long have you been here?" she interrupted, alarmed. "How did you get in?" Hadn't she locked her door? And what was he doing here, anyway? Her mind was buzzing too quickly for her to grasp a coherent thought, and her stomach was in knots.

He gestured vaguely at the door. Misty glanced at it, then glared at him and snarled, "_Did you pick my lock?_" Ash took a step back.

"Of course not! It was unlocked when I came in last night—"

"You've been in my room _all night_?"

"Well I thought you'd wake up earlier!" he said frantically.

"Why didn't you just wake me up?" she demanded angrily.

"Because I didn't want to make you mad!"

"And breaking into my room to hang out while I was asleep _wouldn't_?"

Ash looked panicked. "I knew this was a bad idea," he said quickly. He folded his arms across his chest self-consciously. Without his jacket, Misty could see that both the bandages and gloves were missing from his wrists, which looked raw and painful. "I told them you wouldn't like it. But Brock said you were still up—"

"You talked to _Brock_?" Misty gasped. "When?"

Ash nudged his sunglasses nervously, his eyes everywhere but on her, and shifted his feet on the floor. "Before I came. I wouldn't have come if he hadn't said...And then Pikachu said you were only dozing..."

Misty stared at him. Ash met her eyes apprehensively, then quickly looked away again and cleared his throat. "He uh, told me to come earlier, but something came up and I couldn't—"

"What do you mean, 'earlier'? When did you talk to him before?"

"Saturday night, after uh..." He trailed off nervously and stared at the toes of his shoes as a furious blush splashed across his ears. Misty had time to feel only a tinge of anger at Brock's concealment of this information before it was quickly swept aside by her own embarrassment. Saturday night. Right. Mew.

There was a tense moment of silence between them. Misty twisted her hands in her lap; the butterflies clawing at her insides seemed to be armed with an array of tiny daggers. Now what? Did he want to pretend it never happened? Could she even do that? Mew, what was she _supposed_ to do?

She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She could do this. If she could break up with Rudi, she could at least get through this one conversation with Ash.

"Look, I'm sorry I yelled—"

"I'm sorry I ran a—"

They both stopped short and blushed fiercely. Misty's heart was beating so quickly she thought it might be audible from the other side of the room. Mew, was she really screwing this up already?

She braved a glance up at him when he cleared his throat. He had his head turned to the side, his arms crossed tightly, and was staring heatedly at the legs of her computer chair. "I'm sorry I ran away," he said forcefully, deliberately, like he was regurgitating a speech. "It was a stupid thing to do, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn't mean to make you think it wasn't...to make it look like I didn't...that I was leaving you." What was visible of his face beneath his bangs was tinged a deep red; he was obviously terrified of what he was saying. So was Misty; it was a struggle to force air into her lungs, her chest was so tight. Ash shifted his footing.

"I just, I wanted you to know that what you did the other night, it..." He glared furiously at the chair. Misty was frozen to her spot on the bed. It what? It was stupid? Crazy? Unfixable? What?

He was shaking his head and mumbling inaudibly to himself. Misty had to strain to hear. "I can't do this. Mew, I can't..." He trailed off softly and looked at Misty, then at the door. A second later he made a break for it.

"Wait—Dammit—_No!_"

Misty was not willing to let him go again, not like he had last time, not if it might actually _be_ the last time. If he was trying to leave her, to set her down gently and walk away forever, well, she had a few things to say to him before he went.

She tumbled off her bed and lurched wildly for the door, and was barely in time to slam it shut on his nose. Ash took a step back, startled, and Misty glared at him. She kept one hand on the door to make sure he couldn't slip out and slipped her hand under his on the doorknob to lock it. Ash jerked away from her touch as if burned.

"Misty, what are you—"

"_Not yet_," she growled furiously, advancing on him. He stepped back, eyes wide over his glasses.

"What—"

"You're not leaving me yet, Ash. There are a few things I want you to understand first." She had to force the words out of a burning throat thick with painful tears. Ash took anther step back and she followed, her eyes stinging. "You have this horrible habit of running blindly away from everything you don't agree with—"

"I'm not 'running away'—" he began defensively, but was cut off when Misty suddenly closed the distance between them, hooked her fingers around his ears, and pulled him down roughly for a kiss. He jerked back, surprised, but Misty clamped her hands around his head and refused to let him leave.

"I love you," she told him firmly, holding the silhouette of his eyes through the tinted plastic. He shivered violently and dropped his gaze. Misty didn't care. "I love you, Ash, and you know what? I'm not going to stop. I don't care if you're human or not, or even if you walk out that door and never come back—" Her voice cracked, and she was forced to stop and clear it. Ash tried to use the pause to break away from her, but she wouldn't let him. "_No_, Ash, you need to listen to me. You just can't seem to grasp some things. _I love you_. Know that at least, before you leave."

Ash ceased his struggling and looked at the floor. "Misty—"

"No. You know what? Look at me. _Look at me_."

He reluctantly met her eyes through his glasses, and before he knew what was happening she'd grabbed them with her fingertips and slipped them off.

His first reaction was to duck his head behind his elbow and stumble blindly away from her. Misty followed, and when he glanced up again he nearly tripped at how close she was. Misty knew she was terrifying him, but she refused to back down. He was so ashamed of what he was; Misty hated it, and even if she never saw him again after this, maybe she could at least pound some self-respect into his head before he managed to escape.

He held out a hand as she backed him up against the wall. "Give me back my—"

"No."

"Misty—"

"_No_. Look at me."

He hid his eyes behind his arm and tried scooting along the wall, but he was trapped between the corner and the foot of her bed. Misty made sure she filled his only escape route and folded the sunglasses in her hand. She reached out and tried to lower his arm with the other.

"Dammit, Misty, don't—_Stop it_."

He sounded angry. Good; Misty knew how liberating anger could be. She tugged harder at his arm, but he refused to cooperate. His free hand darted out in a mad attempt for his glasses, but Misty dropped them on the floor and kicked them behind her before he could reach. He made a frustrated half-growling noise.

"What the hell are you doing?" He peeked over his bare arm to glare at her, and Misty caught a flash of gold in his eyes. Her insides squirmed briefly, then settled. She couldn't see much, but what she could glimpse was definitely different. Not scary, though; not anymore. But still, she hated that he was so ashamed of them.

"I'm tired of the glasses, Ash," she told him evenly. "I'm tired of the secrets, and I'm tired of the shame. Put your arm down."

"_No_, Misty—"

"Dammit, Ash, _put your arm down_."

She yanked it down, and he reached out to shove her away, and she caught his hands and held him there, barely mindful of his sore wrists. He lowered his head and glared at her from beneath his bangs. Misty met what she could see of his eyes and held them until he lowered his head and slumped weakly against the wall, the fight obviously gone from him. Misty seized the opportunity to step closer.

"Ash, you are a _person_," she said firmly. "There's nothing about you to be ashamed of. So your eyes swirl. So _what_? I think they're beautiful. I love your eyes, Ash. And I love _you_."

He was trembling, refusing still to look at her even as he felt her lean in close and rest her forehead against his own. Misty was fighting to suppress the sinking feeling in her stomach. She was probably ruining any chance she had with him, but dammit, he was so afraid of human contact, so immersed in this belief that no one would accept him, that if it took Misty's relationship with him to prove him wrong, well, so be it. She took a deep breath and watched him carefully while she thread her fingers through his and rested their hands against his chest. He was terrified of what she was doing.

"I don't love just a part of you, Ash" she continued relentlessly. "I love _all_ of you."

"I'm not—Misty, don't— " He was breathing heavily now, his hands limp and shaking in hers.

"I'm not saying this to trick you—"

"Mew, Misty—"

"—and I'm not lying to you. I just want you to understand before you leave that I _will_ miss you. I love you, Ash, and it'll hurt when you're gone. Just—"

She was in tears now, but she was ready to accept what she was doing. It hurt—oh, God, it hurt—but maybe in doing it Ash would see that he wasn't worthless. Maybe in forcing him to face her like this Ash would see that there was something in him to be loved. Maybe she could help him.

"Look at me, Ash, just once. Please? Just let me look at you."

He raised his eyes, finally, slowly raised his eyes, and braced himself when she looked into them. Misty smiled weakly. They were swirling black and gold around the faintest hint of chocolate, and they really were beautiful. She found herself drawing even closer to him, as close as she could.

"Ash, can I..."

She didn't know why she was asking for permission this time, but he made no move to object when she lowered her head and gently kissed him, well aware that it would be their last. Well, _her_ last. She made it last as long as she could, and when she finally forced herself to release him she was startled when he stooped his neck to follow. His grip tightened weakly on her hands. Misty started shaking. All the places their bodies met surged suddenly with a strange electrical heat, and she jerked back to stare at him with a startled gasp.

He was looking at her as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, his eyes swirling a rich chocolate now, and he was crying.

**X**

Misty never showed up for lunch, so when Brock caught sight of her marching toward him later that afternoon while he was busy digging his keys out of his jeans, he immediately straightened and smiled.

"Hey, Mist, we missed you at lunch today—"

He stopped short at the look on her face, and swallowed hard. Uh-oh. Ash must have shown up after all, and he must have done something horribly wrong.

She stomped to a halt in front of him and glared. "Um, everything okay?" he asked cautiously. She responded by raising her hand. Brock winced.

"I am _this_ close to killing you, Brock Slate," she hissed angrily, indicating a tiny portion with her fingers. "How _dare_ you interfere with my life like that? How _dare_ you make plans with Ash behind my back, and not even tell me? You lying, scheming _bastard_."

She made to raise her other hand. Brock cringed again, fully expecting a blow this time, and instead froze as he found himself wrapped up in a tight hug.

"Thank you, Brock," Misty murmured against his collar. "I hate you so much for doing that to me, but _thank you_."

After a moment's confused hesitation, Brock smiled sheepishly and patted her awkwardly on the back. "Um...you're welcome?"

**X**

"So it worked."

"It was still a mean thing to do."

"But it worked.

"But it was mean of you."

"But...it _worked_."

Misty glared, and Brock offered her a wide grin. He stretched himself out on his bed and locked his hands behind his head, his grin widening as Misty's fierce expression melted into a dopey smile. She couldn't stay mad at him for long, now that she knew he'd spent all of Saturday night coaxing Ash into speaking with her again. He sighed, relieved. Misty was almost giddy with happiness, and she wasn't going to murder him after all. If all of Ash's effects on her were so pleasant he could definitely get used to the guy, Elemental or no.

"So what happened? You have to tell me everything, you know."

Misty's smile faded. She ducked her head to look at her hands. "I don't know if it's my place to," she said softly. "He's so..._vulnerable_. He's good at hiding it, but Mew. You should have seen the look on his face when I finally convinced him that I...that I _accepted_ him. He fell apart."

"What do you mean?" Brock wanted to know, intrigued. Ash hadn't wanted to do any of the suggestions he'd made Saturday night, but Brock had written it off as the nervousness and anxiety that everyone felt when they entered a new relationship. Hell, he was dealing with it right now with Suzie. His face flushed suddenly and his stomach churned. He knew he was smiling stupidly. _Suzie_...

Misty sighed. "It's hard to explain, and I don't really want to. But jeez, Brock, he really didn't think I was okay with his...Elementalism." She frowned. "That's such a stupid word. Why aren't there any words for this stuff?"

"Because there aren't any Elementals to describe with them," Brock reminded her. "But what about Drake? You said he was Ash's uncle, right?"

Misty nodded. "On his father's side."

"So his father's brother, right? Older or younger?"

"Younger, by about five years. He said their mother died when he was ten. She was the last Elemental they knew."

"So females can get it to?" Brock clarified. "Interesting. Why doesn't Drake have it?"

"I dunno," Misty shrugged. "He said they didn't know how it worked. He's got something, though, a strong sort of...connection."

"With Pokémon?"

"Yeah, all Types. He said his brother had a connection with all of them too, but he could only channel Electricity. Their mother was Water."

Brock frowned. "That makes no sense."

Misty sighed again. "I know. Drake said he and Cypress—that's Ash's dad—never got it either, and they had no one to ask. It was sort of a learn-as-you-go thing."

"Same for Ash?"

"I think so. He as much as told me once, a long time ago. He said his dad wrote a lot of stuff down though, and those rooms he lives in are _filled_ with old books. I bet a lot of them did."

"The Elementals?"

"Yeah. Or—" She stopped suddenly and frowned. "I dunno, maybe they didn't. They might not have thought too; Drake said there used to be a whole group of them living down there, they just sort of...dwindled. Most of them must not have had kids, or else they didn't get the thing, or something, or—dammit, I don't know!" She was glaring furiously at a Breeder Type Chart on his wall. "I don't know _anything_! And I don't think Ash knows much either; I think he thinks it's some sort or horrible monstrosity—he thinks _he's_ a monstrosity—and it took me all day just to get him to look at me without cringing. You'd think he's worn those goddam sunglasses since birth."

"He might have," Brock pointed out quietly. "He must have had it drilled into him what would happen if he took them off."

"Yeah, well he was drilled a little too deeply," said Misty angrily. "He doesn't like people anywhere near him. He jumps when I touch him, or starts shaking, or accidentally shocks me—oh, and don't even get me started on his constant apologies! _Mew!_ He reminds me of your Zubat when you first caught her."

"He's that bad?" Brock asked, eyebrows raised. He'd caught Crobat—_Zubat_—from a large chain of caves a few miles outside of town. He'd jumped at the chance to find a new Rock Type when he'd won a coupon for hunting rights in that area through an essay contest, and even though his heart had been set on a Rhyhorn, when he'd caught side of that poor bat, barely able to keep hold of a low-hanging stalactite with one claw, its wing broken in two places, well...Zubat were notoriously weak and often picked on by younger Trainees or even common passersby, since they hung in easy throwing-distance of small rocks. They were like Magikarp in that they had great potential, but not a lot of Trainers had the patience for that kind of regime. Brock thought it was one of the best experiences he'd ever had, especially since he hoped to make his career in raising small, weak Pokémon from birth. He didn't regret adopting the poor creature.

Misty threw up her hands in disgust. "He's _worse_!" she cried irritably. "When I offered to let him stay with me tonight I thought I'd killed him, his face went so white. Oh—_stop it!_ This isn't funny!"

Brock was laughing at the mental image, but he quickly sobered when he saw the look on Misty's face. "Well," he said rationally, "maybe that was a bit fast for him—"

Misty's face colored. "I didn't mean for _that_!" she said frantically. "Mew! I only meant that he was so...so..._Mew!_ I just kept thinking of him and all those empty rooms and how far away they were, and I didn't like the idea of him going back to them alone while he's so mixed up, all right? I hate the way he insists he live his life."

"I don't think he has a choice, Misty."

"Sure he does! He doesn't always have to wear those damn sunglasses, for one thing, especially around me. I hate them. Have you seen his eyes when they have brown in them? It takes over the black, and it's so pretty with the gold."

"What's it for?" Brock interrupted, curious.

"I think it's his natural eye color, the more I see it. It comes out more when he—" She stopped and blushed furiously, and Brock grinned slyly. It took a lot to get Misty to blush around him.

"When he what?"

"Well...I think it's when he's really emotional about something. Something _good_."

"Like what?" Brock teased.

"Like...well, like when he kisses me—which he wouldn't do on his own, dammit, I had to coax him into every one—and when he's just...happy about something."

"That's interesting," Brock mused thoughtfully. Misty was silent for a moment, staring blankly at a spot on the floor between her perch on Brock's computer chair and his bed. Brock took the time to mull over the things she'd told him. She definitely had her hands full with Ash, that was for sure, but...she seemed happy. Happier, anyway. He wondered how the two of them would work out. It was obvious Ash loved her from the way he'd talked about her Saturday night, though he'd never actually admitted it, and Misty seemed to truly prefer him to Rudi, which was good. But he had a definite inferiority problem, and Misty hated it when people had no respect for themselves. Well, it would be interesting, if nothing else.

"I hope I can help him," said Misty quietly, her eyes still staring vacantly at the floor. "Mew, he's so screwed up inside. He doesn't know how to act or what to think...but he's trying, I think. He's changed so much since we first met, and I wonder...if I did that much for him just by befriending him, what can I do by _loving_ him, you know?"

Brock took a moment to think before he replied, and sat up. "Honestly, I think you're perfect for him, Mist."

She looked up at him, surprised. "You do? Why?"

He took a deep breath. "Well, you're...you're _you_. I think that's enough. I'd just give him time, Misty. I mean, you said yourself that he changed just by knowing you. He seems...fragile. Just take your time. Can you imagine how he would have reacted to Saturday night if you'd done that when you first met him?"

Misty snorted. "He'd have bolted like a Rapidash out of water. And...he probably wouldn't have come back."

Brock smiled. "See? He's coming around. You're doing a great job."

Misty looked at him and smiled warmly. "Thanks, Brock. For everything. I don't think I could have survived this long without you."

"Oh, psh. You would have survived just fine on your own—but there probably would have been a few more injuries. Collateral damage, you know."

She laughed and rose to leave. "Probably. I have to talk to my Masters now, though; I missed class again today. I still have homework to catch up on, too."

"All right. Call me if you need something."

She smiled. "I will. But...I think I'll be okay now. I think everything's okay again. It's...nice"

He smiled as she left, relieved that she was finally feeling better. When the door closed behind her, though, he fell back on his bed and sighed loudly. Mew. His best friend was in love with what could quite possibly be the last Elemental on the planet, and he was helping them with each other. _Mew_.

What ever happened to worrying about Pokémon and exams?

**X**

**Author's Note :x: **Review. I like them, and they make me post faster.

**Author's Note II :x:** If this chapter didn't please your inner Pokéshipper, I don't know what will. Next chapter is called _"Wandering child/ so lost/ so helpless..."_ and it'll wrap up Act III, methinks. I'm still stunned by this. Chapter sixteen! Mew! There's only one act left, and it'll be a short one; I'm hoping not to break twenty chapters. Again, head on over to dripping(underscore)candle at LiveJournal for a cleaner version. I do change things, believe it or not, and quite frequently in order to support/hint at where I'm going—dialogue included. This place rips out the spaces between words without warning, and I'm getting tired of the constant battle to upload the perfect copy. Clean copies have become the unatainable Holy Grail.


	16. So, It Is To Be War Between Us!

**Phantom**

**X**

**Act iii Stage v**

"_So, it is to be war between us!"_

_Drake's office was in the middle of a string of offices on the fourth floor, so he was surprised when he glanced up from his paperwork and saw that the shadow falling across his desk belonged to none other than his nephew._

"Ash!" Drake froze and dropped his voice, his gaze darting to the door. It was closed, but still; the kid should know better! "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded in a harsh whisper. "When you want to meet me you send Pikachu, you know that! It's too dangerous for you up here! Or don't you remember that whole 'being caught' thing last week?"

Ash met the Master's eyes through his sunglasses and glared. "You're the one who told Misty you knew me. Or don't you remember that whole 'promise' thing you made with my mom not to?"

Drake returned the glare and leaned back in his chair to cross his arms. "That's different. We discussed that first. And besides, Misty's more than proven her trustworthiness. You might not have made it if she hadn't—"

"Yeah," Ash bit back, "_Thanks_."

Drake held his gaze for a moment, then growled, "Is that what you're here about? To yell at me for not helping you? Because you should know better, Ash. You should know I was doing everything in my power—"

"How is it that everything in the Head Dragon Master's power isn't enough to do what a couple of students can?"

Drake's eyes flashed in understanding. He couldn't repress a smirk as he leaned forward with a creak and unfolded his arms. "Ah, so that's what this is about—"

"Don't give me that look! Misty and Brock could have been expelled for what they did—worse, if Gary got to them before the headMasters—and all you could do was run around—"

"_Covering for your mother's absence and making deals with the guards who saw you._ Or did you think those problems went away on their own? Do you have any idea how much their silence cost? One of them wants his pick of Kade's next batch of Dratini—wouldn't settle for anything less! Mew, she's not going to like it when I tell her..."

Ash was still glaring at him, but it was a little more forced now. He seemed desperate to be mad at Drake for something. Drake wanted to know why.

"Have you even talked to either of them since?" he asked casually, grabbing a pen off his desk and leaning back again to fiddle with it. He watched it roll through his fingers as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. "Misty missed my class yesterday. Didn't say why when she came to see me though, so I wondered if maybe you two had—"

"Why do you always mention Misty?" Ash demanded suddenly. "You and Mom and Pikachu. All any of you can talk about lately is 'Misty this' and 'Misty that' and 'Oh Ash, have you talked to Misty today?' and 'Pi Pikapi, pikachu pika Pikachupi kachu ka?' Mew! What were you trying to do, set us up?"

Drake grinned. "Is it working?"

Ash blushed, and Drake's grin widened. "It's not funny," he said angrily, struggling to keep his glare strong. "She could be expelled just for knowing me, and still you encourage her to—"

"Ash, I didn't even speak to her about you until Sunday," Drake reminded him, "and even then I didn't say much. I had a meeting with some Water Breeders that afternoon—you remember them, don't you? I meant to tell you; they're interested in taking that old Lapras off your hands."

"But they haven't seen her yet," Ash said with a frown, his mind preoccupied.

"That description you gave me was enough. They were impressed; apparently elder Lapras are better at caring for newborns than most young parents are, and they don't mind crossing species."

"You didn't know that?"

Drake looked at him. "Should I have?"

"Lapras have Dragon blood in them," Ash shrugged. "You tell me."

Something was off about him, Drake noticed. He was too short and clipped, but at the same time...vague. He studied Ash thoughtfully for a moment, then said quietly, "Ash, why are you really here?"

Ash looked away quickly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, let's see," Drake sighed. He raised a hand and began ticking off the reasons with his fingers. "You've never come to see me in my office before; you've never talked to me without Pikachu at least present, if not an active participant in the conversation; you're shifting from foot to foot like you want to bolt—yes, Ash, it's that obvious—and you keep getting off-topic, if yelling at me is indeed your sole purpose here. So sit down and relax a minute; my next appointment isn't for another two hours."

Ash glanced at the proffered chair, but he didn't sit. Drake expected him to dance around the topic a little more like he usually did, and raised an eyebrow when he ran a hand through his tousled hair and took a deep, shaky breath.

"I want to know how Dad made it work between him and Mom."

Drake froze. He had to repress a shudder at the mention of his brother—the memory was still painful for him, and it'd been well over twenty years now—and instead thunked all four feet of his chair on the floor and stared. Ash watched him carefully, obviously as uneasy as Drake was. It took a moment for the Master to reply.

"Ash, we don't—" His throat was dry. He stopped to clear it. "I mean, we've never really talked about this kind of thing before—"

"I've never needed to know before." Ash's voice was as quiet as his own.

"But your mother," he protested weakly. "Can't she..."

Ash cleared his throat carefully. "Mom is like...She's like Misty. And besides, I know she didn't know Dad very well. I know it was short and fast, and that they didn't...Dad just doesn't seem like a heart-to-heart kind of guy, you know? At least not with her. They didn't have the chance. But you knew him for years, see, so I thought maybe..."

Drake studied him carefully. They'd never really discussed Cypress before, aside from the occasional questions Ash had asked him as a boy, back before he'd recognized Drake's reaction to the topic as a pained one. Hell, they hardly ever talked at all; only when Ash needed something special for a wounded Pokémon, or needed a home for one. It wasn't that Ash didn't trust him, Drake knew. It was just...what was there to say?

His throat was dry again. He cleared it and met Ash's eyes carefully. The kid was a hell of a lot younger than Cypress had been—was younger even than Drake had been—and the circumstances now were completely different. Misty was no Delia, for one thing, and Ash was definitely no Cypress.

Cypress...

Drake had to look away again. Cypress hadn't bothered hiding what he was, and though it had been years since Drake had seen Ash without his glasses he knew without a doubt that their eyes were identical. And they looked so similar...it didn't take much imagination for Drake to see Cypress there in his office with him, looking at him like that, just like he had when Delia had finally gotten to him, when Sam Oak brought the world crashing down on his thick head, when he was lost and confused and Drake had tried to help him...

He sighed. Cypress had been the brash one, the confident one; Drake was always the little brother. Cypress had been the one to give out advice—horrible though it was, Drake realized now—yet here Ash was, and he was more like Drake than he was his real father; was more controlled, cautious, nervous. More confused by everything. More...vulnerable.

Drake hesitated a moment, then forced himself to fold his arms on his desk and take a deep, calming breath.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

**X**

Gary Oak felt like he was being hunted in his sleep. He awoke with a start, breath catching in his sore, swollen throat as he coughed, then stiffened and coughed again when he saw Ash standing at the foot of his bed, watching him with a stern expression on his face, arms crossed. His Pikachu was on his shoulder, looking tense and alert. Gary had to stop himself from calling in a nurse; he had a few things to say to this bastard before he disappeared into the shadows, and felt his frustration rise when all he could choke out was a hoarse, garbled, "_You._"

Ash glared at him through his sunglasses. "Me," he said simply. Gary struggled to force at least one of the half-dozen obscenities clouding his mind out through his dry throat, but all he could manage was a strangled growl. Ash shifted his weight.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Gary's voice was more a choked rasp than a coherent sound, but Ash seemed to pick it up just fine.

"I came to call a truce," he said evenly. Gary's mouth opened of its own accord.

"You _what_?"

"A truce," he repeated. "You got me last week, Gary. Just because I can walk doesn't mean I'm in any better condition than you are. Those Tentacool could have finished the job and you know it. You could have let me die down there, and I know it. We're even."

"I _would_ have let you die down there," Gary snarled. "Next time you _will_."

Ash sighed. "I know you argued with the headMasters to move me, Gary, you're not fooling anyone. I know it was only to you could...prolong things, but still. We're _even_."

"We are _not_ even, Elemental," Gary said furiously. "If you think for a second that drowning in that cell would have been worse than what I planned, then you're even stupider than I thought."

This angered Ash. Gary smirked in self-satisfaction as he watched the half-breed's frown deepen, his fingers gripping his upper arms more tightly. When he spoke again his voice was edged in carefully contained irritation.

"This is ridiculous, Gary. I want it _stopped_. There's no point in us fighting anymore; you're just mad because of something I had no damn control over, and believe me, if I could fix it I would have years ago—"

"Your freak of a father destroyed my grandfather!" Gary interrupted furiously. Ash fisted his hands at his sides.

"And your obsessive grandfather _killed_ my dad!" he shot back. "We're _even_, you vindictive moron! Leave me alone!"

"Ha! You're just scared because you know you don't stand a chance anymore." Ash hesitated at that, and Gary pounced. "Admit it, freak. You're outnumbered this time, and you _know _it. Your mom's tenure is useless without the old patrons, your uncle's being served papers for peddling wild Pokémon as we speak, and you've just pissed off two conveniently loaded families, both with enough money to buy out the entire city twice over. I don't care how many fail-safes those Elementals down there set up; you're nothing against enough men and enough money, and you _know_ it."

Ash was silent for his small speech, but his fisted hands tightened angrily, and Gary grinned as best he could at the short rivulets of electricity darting around them. "You haven't changed a bit," he growled, his voice tight. One of Pikachu's paws tightened in his jacket collar and the electricity disappeared, but not the tension. "I thought after the Tentacool that you'd have at least learned _something_, but dammit, Gary, you still underestimate them!"

"I'm not underestimating anything," Gary drawled, feigning laziness. "Face it, Ash, we've got you cornered—"

"Don't make me use them," Ash broke in, breath quickened by what Gary took to be fear. "This is our fight, Gary, not theirs. If you send men down there, they'll run them out whether I tell them to or not."

"You think I'm worried about the _Pokémon_?" Gary asked incredulously, then laughed. "Ash, you stupid son of a—"

"I'm not kidding, Gary," Ash interrupted, his voice taking on a warning tone. "I called them off last time, but they're as sick of it as I am. The Stadium doesn't own those grounds; they have just as much right to live down there as anywhere else, and they—"

"Then they have every right to be hunted there as well," Gary said smoothly, ignoring the burn in his throat. He grinned at the look on Ash's face.

"Dammit, Gary, don't you _dare_—  
"Pika pikachu, pika pi chu—"

Gary interrupted the pair's angry protests by hovering his hand over the button that would signal the nurse. Ash glared while Pikachu sparked angrily. Gary smirked. "It's over, Ash. Even if you kill me here, Trovita and the Harukas will still hunt you down—"

"I was never going to kill you, Gary," Ash spat, lifting his arms to cross them over his chest again. "I hate you, but if you die, it won't be by my hands. _But_," he added harshly, "I refuse to stop the Pokémon this time. If you invade their home, you'll have to deal with the consequences on your own. They're not weak and they're not stupid; they'll kill you if you threaten them, and they'll drive your men back on their own. So for Mew's sake, Gary, _leave them alone_ before there's a death toll—"

"There's already a death toll!" Gary rasped, and Ash paused. "You got a ten-year-old killed just last week, or can't you remember that far?"

Ash was seething. "You knocked that cage over, you stupid bastard! It got out because of _you_!"

"It was _alive_ because of _you_!" Gary retorted angrily.

"It hates people because _you_ hurt it and used it as bait!"

"For _you_!" Gary reminded him. "I wouldn't have even needed the damn thing if you hadn't pissed off the headMasters and stolen that Ponyta!"

"You were going to cull her to sell as overpriced Growlithe chow!" Ash fumed. "What the hell did you _think_ I was going to do with her?"

Gary grinned, which confused Ash and made him pause. "I knew you'd take her," he confided honestly. "I didn't know you'd give her to the Waterflower girl, but I can hardly complain. She can be expelled for withholding her Evolutionary date, you know." He watched Ash struggle to control himself for a minute, pleased that he'd finally allowed himself a weak spot before ruthlessly continuing. "You know," he drawled, "I really must thank her sometime. I know why you're really here, Ash. You have this notion in your head that you can be happy with her, that I'll back off and Trovita will back off and you can live happily ever after with the one stupid little girl who sees the man behind the monster, or some other bullshit fairytale—"

"I swear on Raikou's tail, Gary, if you lay one _finger_ on her, I'll make it so that you _envy _that stupid crazy grandfather of yours."

Gary met Ash's eyes through the dark plastic and grinned. "Is that a threat, Ash?"

"I damn well hope so," Ash growled.

"So hostile. Should I consider this a failed peace negotiation?"

Ash sighed a frustrated, irritated sigh. "If you're so determined to fight me, Gary, then go ahead. I'm just asking you to leave everyone else out of it."

Gary lifted an eyebrow only somewhat painfully. "Asking?"

"Telling," Ash corrected himself, glaring. Gary was amused.

"We're not going to stop this time, Ash. Trovita's more determined than I am to get rid of you, and he for one has the means to do it. Coupled with the Harukas, this little shadow dance you insist on playing is practically over already. If you were smart, you'd leave now." His eyes flashed, and Ash shifted. "Good thing I know you're not smart."

"I won't abandon the Pokémon," Ash corrected him.

"Same thing."

This time it was Ash's eyes that flashed, and much more literally. "Swear to leave Misty, her friend, and my family out of this," he demanded.

"Or?" Gary wanted to know. He actually paused when Ash's eyes roved over him dangerously.

"I don't have to move to kill you, you know."

"You just said you wouldn't."

"You're being difficult."

"I'm not going to get any easier."

Ash looked like he just might do it for a moment, but that moment quickly passed, and Gary found himself breathing a sigh of relief as the electricity coiling around his hands fizzled out with a crackling pop. He sighed and looked away. "I really am tired of this, Gary," he said tiredly. "It's not just you and me anymore, and that's not fair. To them. This stupid thing has gone on long enough."

"Then we'll end it quickly," Gary offered, pleased that Ash was finally biting back. "I won't touch your girl; I have no need to. Your mom's as useless as she always was, and Pumello will be too preoccupied with the law to drag me through the dirt anymore. It's me and you, and Trovita as well."

"This isn't about Misty," Ash protested, glaring at him again. "Don't let him make it about her."

Gary shrugged. "You'll have to take that up with Trovita, I'm afraid. Or the girl." By the look on Ash's face, he already had. Gary resisted a smirk. "Trouble in paradise already?"

Ash rolled his eyes. "It's not like that."

"Looks like that."

"You've always seen what you wanted to see when you looked at me."

"Those sunglasses only cover your eyes, not your nature."

Ash sighed. "I'm leaving now. Pikachu—" The mouse's ears twitched at Ash's voice, though they remained almost flattened to his skull. He bared his teeth at Gary and stopped the electricity gathering in his cheeks from releasing into the air. Ash nodded at him, and although the mouse was clearly not happy about it, he scrambled up his head and leapt up into the hole made by the panel they'd slid aside in the low ceiling. Ash regarded Gary carefully for a moment.

"You really won't stop this?" he asked again. "People have tried to storm those chambers before. No one's managed it."

"You're the last one down there," Gary pointed out smugly, Trovita's detailed plans running through his mind. "You can't keep everyone out alone."

"That's my point," said Ash patiently. "I won't be alone."

"Pokémon aren't invincible, Ash."

"They're not defenseless, either."

"You're force-feeding a dead Snorlax," Gary quipped, rolling his eyes at the Tentacool burns curling around his arms.

"I'm just saying."

"So am I."

Ash sighed. "Are we done, then?"

"I think so."

"Did you level those charges against my uncle?"

"To be honest with you, no. Funny how you Elementals and your relatives manage to indict yourselves with or without my help, isn't it?"

Ash looked annoyed at that, but wisely chose to let it go. Gary watched as he nodded and pulled himself up into the ceiling after Pikachu, then blinked in surprise when said rat poked his head down and bared his teeth at him angrily. Ash's hand came down and pulled him back, and the ceiling panel slid quietly back into place again. Gary used the few minutes before a nurse passed through on her rounds to contemplate the Elemental's visit.

He'd hit it on the nose, he acknowledged with a wry grin. Ash wanted him to stop his manhunt so that he could be with the Waterflower girl in peace. Gary snorted. He had no doubt the girl would leave him soon enough, either when she was forced to move out after her graduation next month or when Trovita finally managed to remind her that she'd be better off with the rich, egocentric bastard than with a half-breed Elemental on the run. He smiled to himself. He hoped he'd be there for that little fall-out.

In the meantime, though, he had an army to muster up, and he had a feeling that the more brutal the Trainers he found, the better.

**X**

The Stadium was alive with gossip that evening. It wasn't completely unheard of for a Master there to have an issue or two with the law, but it was rare, and the fact that it was the Dragon Master, and one of the four Stadium Elite at that, meant that word of Drake's subpoena spread like wildfire. Misty heard it from Brock as she was sitting down for her last class of the day, and as much as she wanted to sniff Ash out of wherever she was sure he was hiding in his underground maze, she found herself perusing the fourth floor offices in search of Drake's instead, while Brock reluctantly left her for a Breeding exam cram session he'd signed up for.

A gruff, harassed-sounding voice barked out at her when she knocked. Misty, relieved that he was actually in his office so late in the afternoon, hoped he wouldn't be too angry with her and opened the door to peek her head in anyway. Drake glared up at her from under his ruffled hair until he recognized who he was, and then his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Misty. What are you doing here?" He pushed himself up so that he was sitting straight in his chair as Misty slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind her. She gave him a half-smile and leaned back against it.

"I heard what happened. Did it have anything to do with...?"

Drake stared at her in confusion for a moment before her words clicked and he started a little. "With Oak? You're talking about the subpoena? Oh, no, of course not."

Misty was surprised. "It doesn't?"

Drake looked confused. "Why would you think it did?"

Misty was confused as well. "Isn't that...well...isn't this kind of thing just what Gary _does_?"

Drake studied her for a moment, fingers linked as he set his elbows on the desk before him. "Gary Oak has been in the infirmary for nearly a week now, Misty. He's had no time to pull a court summons together."

"Well yeah, but..." Misty felt herself flush. "I'm sorry, I guess I just assumed..." She frowned suddenly, and Drake lifted his eyebrows in question as he voice trailed off.

"Yes?"

"But if Gary didn't do this, then doesn't that mean..."

"That I'm guilty of the charges?" Misty couldn't find it in herself to nod, but Drake continued anyway. He sighed. "Yes, I'm guilty. The subpoena is only a summons for a court date regarding the illegal peddling of feral Pokémon, though, not anything to do with the wild rumors that have been running rampant around here." He waved his hand dismissively at the wall, looking mildly annoyed. "It's nothing serious, just a large fine and an extended probation. Maybe a little jail time; depends on what they know."

Misty wasn't sure what to say. Drake was involved in the Pokémon black market? Since when? Was he a part of the Stadium that Ash had shown her recently, the part that sold Battle-weakened Pokémon for personal profit? The part that sold them to research groups? The part that culled them for food?

"You look like you're going to be sick," Drake remarked suddenly, breaking her trail of thought. "Are you all right?"

Misty scrambled to come up with an answer. "I'm fine, just...um...surprised?" He couldn't be affiliated with them. He was Ash's _uncle_, for Mew's sake; Ash would never stand for it. She wasn't sure what Ash would actually _do_ about it, no, but she knew he wouldn't allow it. Probably.

Drake smiled wearily. "Sorry, it's not something that comes up in everyday conversation or I'd have mentioned it before. Now that you know, though, fell free to contact me after you leave the Stadium. I know you can't have more than six before you graduate, but afterwards you're welcome to whatever I can find. Unless you'd rather hunt them on your own, of course; I understand the work in that is half the fun for a lot of people."

Misty's mouth fell open. "You're going to do it again?" she blurted, astonished that Drake could be so callous of the law.

"Of course," he replied evenly, raising his eyebrows at her obvious surprise. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"But they—The Pokémon..."

"They need somewhere to go regardless of the legality of the transaction," Drake explained slowly, watching her. "I'm normally a little more careful about my clientele, but I admit, I've been a little distracted lately." He managed to flash a small smile at her before leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair tiredly. "Turns out the elderly couple looking for 'a peaceful Lapras to help look after the young ones' were really under the temporary employ of the K-RBI. Good thing they slapped me with the paperwork before Ash had a chance to lead her out from the lake."

Misty gaped at him. "_Ash?_" He was involved in this too?

Drake frowned. "Yes, of course. Have you seen him today, by the way? If you do, tell him not to take her up. He said he was going to early tomorrow."

"Take her where?" Misty demanded, completely confused now. "What exactly are you talking about? Are you saying that you peddle Pokémon off to people with _Ash_?"

Drake's frown deepened. "He didn't tell you?" he asked evenly, then rolled his eyes. "Oh, who am I kidding, that boy keeps more secrets than a paranoid Unown." He paused to regard Misty for a moment, his expression unreadable, then shifted his weight in his seat and nodded at the chair across from him. "Sit down, Misty, you don't have to stand."

"Sorry, I'm just...a little confused," Misty admitted, taking the seat. Drake flashed her a grin.  
"I help find homes for the Pokémon Ash takes in who want them," he explained, waving an inviting hand at the pitcher of water resting on the desk beside Misty's elbow. Misty shook her head, so Drake shrugged and leaned back in his chair, hooking an ankle over his knee comfortably. "It's a little illegal," he continued in a flippant tone, "but what's a little illegal activity for a struggling Pokémon, eh?" He grinned, and Misty felt a wave of relief wash through her as she slowly returned it. So he wasn't one of those people who took advantage of Pokémon. Thank Mew.

"But that's not so bad," she admitted, reaching for the water after all. She was about as comfortable in Drake's presence as she could be with a Master, when they were properly situated in his office, anyway, and she wasn't being whisked off for breakfast somewhere outside the Stadium. "Can't you tell them that, and they'd reduce your sentence?"

"I could," Drake said slowly, "but it might lead to unwanted questions, and I'd rather not give them any reason to start an investigation here. Some Pokémon simply prefer captivity to freedom. It's hard to prove which is which unless you speak their language, and I very obviously don't. I may be able to get away with the Lapras case, since, as Ash reminded me earlier, they do have a little Dragon blood in them, but if the investigation goes any further, well..." He shrugged. "It won't be so bad. May keep me busy for a few weeks, but that's hardly worth avoiding if it puts Ash in danger."

Misty smiled, a genuine one this time, and nodded her gratitude at Drake. "Thank you, sir. I mean, I never thought you'd turn him in or anything, but...thanks. I'll tell him what happened with the Lapras as soon as I find him."

"You were looking?" Drake asked, his eyebrows raised. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips that Misty readily ignored.

"Yes, I was about to. Do you know where I can find him, or would it be easier to just wander around in the passages until he finds me?"

"Mmm," Drake grunted noncommittally, running his index finger over his upper lip while he took a moment to think. "Might be best to just wait up here for him, actually. I think he wanted to talk to you."

Misty was startled to hear that; after he'd finally managed to slip away from her the day before, obviously overwhelmed enough by what had happened to require some time to himself, Misty had fully expected to have to hunt him down again. She found the prospect a little overwhelming herself, to be perfectly honest, but she'd spent the better portion of her classes that day convincing herself that _someone_ had to take the first step, and since she doubted Ash was the type, well...

She still doubted Ash was the type. Which made her curious to see what he had to talk to her about.

She took her leave from Drake as quickly as she could, though not before Drake managed to sneak in a number of sly remarks about her relationship with his nephew. Some of the things he said convinced her that he really had met with Ash earlier that day instead of sometime prior, which made her wonder what he'd been up to since she'd seen him last. She'd fully expected him to scamper below the Stadium and hide himself in his Pokémon, not...well, not come up to speak to Drake, and especially not to find him waiting for her in her room, shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot in the darkest corner there. He looked up when she entered, a small, nervous-looking smile flicking briefly over his face. "Hey."

Misty closed and locked the door behind her, more to keep unwanted company out than to trap Ash in. Judging by the look on his face, though, he'd assumed the latter. She returned his smile as best she could. "Hey. You're here." She half-expected him to make a mad dash for the door at any moment. He didn't look like he wanted to be here, and Misty wondered if it would always be like this; a constant game of cat and mouse, where Ash ran and she chased after blindly. While she did love him—enough to continue chasing him, in face—would he ever loosen up enough around her to return her feelings, or would he try to remain as distant from her as he'd always been? Was there any way to find out without scaring him off in the process?

Ash stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets suddenly, his eyes skimming everything in the room but her. "Yeah. I was waiting for you after your last class. Did you go somewhere else first, or...?"

Misty leaned back against the door, not sure where else to go without making him—or her, she acknowledged ruefully—more nervous. "I went to see Master Drake. I was worried about the rumors that've been going around."

Ash looked at her sharply, clearly startled. "You went to see Drake? What'd he say to you?"

"That the charges were nothing to worry about," said Misty slowly, watching his reaction with some confusion. "He said to tell you not to bring a Lapras up, since the people who were going to take her were...some sort of undercover agents or something, I think. He's been served a subpoena to go to court next month for selling wild Pokémon, and he wasn't sure it you'd heard yet."

"Oh." Ash looked relieved. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, relaxing a little. "Okay, yeah, I heard about it. You said the charges weren't serious? Pikachu went to find out exactly what they were, but he hasn't come back yet."

That caught Misty's attention. "He is? Will you tell me what he tells you? Drake's not worried about them, but talk elsewhere suggests it's pretty serious, and I don't want him to..."

She trailed off as she noticed Ash shaking his head, his arms crossed now. "It's not serious, no. He's been accused of this before, he's just gotten good at hiding his tracks. But recently..." He let his words trail off with a sigh, a grim look on his face. "It's my fault. He's normally way more careful, but between Rudi Trovita's poking around and Gary's stunt last week, he couldn't—"

"This isn't your fault, Ash," Misty interrupted, leaving the solid sanctuary of the door to approach him. He noticed her movement and started to back away, then checked himself and stiffened instead. He shifted his weight and fixed his eyes on the floor.

"I know it's not really, but I did contribute," he insisted. "You shouldn't be seen talking to him, though. Gary may notice and tell Rudi, and Rudi may push the headMasters to fire him despite his tenure—"

"Rudi would never do that," Misty argued, frowning. "Does he even know he's connected to you? I didn't until recently, and Gary's—"

"This has nothing to do with Gary," Ash told her firmly, meeting her eyes through his sunglasses. "He's a rotten, backstabbing little sneak, but his issue is with me, not my uncle—or you or mom, for that matter. They used to be protected by tenure, but now that they're not, I think he knows better than to go after them. He knows all bets are off if he does."

"Bets?" Misty asked, frowning. She'd been debating whether or not she should touch him—Mew knew she wanted to, just to try to calm him down, to rub some of the tension out of his arms—but she was worried it would do the opposite instead, and forced herself away in lieu of taking a seat on her bed. She patted the spot beside her, but Ash only gave it a brief glance before shifting feet again and continuing.

"Bets," Ash repeated, obviously scouring his mind for a better word. "Rules. Limits. I dunno."

"You two have _rules_?" Misty asked incredulously. Gary's methods, especially of late, had seemed anything but humane.

Ash sighed and gave her a half-shrug, his shoulders remaining somewhat slumped afterwards. "I guess so, sort of. He knows my mom's the only daughter of the former headMaster, so to touch her would be career suicide, which would force him to end his stupid manhunt. My uncle's got tenure, and he's powerful enough to take care of himself—his Dragonite alone could wipe out Gary's entire arsenal—so Gary's wisely chosen not to get involved with him, although he likes to be a prick and tattle on him whenever he can."

"Do the headMasters not know who he and your mother are?" Misty asked curiously. "Or can't they do anything about them because of their tenure?"

"They don't know," Ash sighed, working a hand behind his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly. "It would have been useless for Gary to tell them before. But the old patrons were the only ones to enforce the tenure, and now that they're gone..."

"Gary can get rid of them with a few words," Misty reasoned, her mind reeling. Mew. The headMasters were practically clambering for Ash's head; what would they do if they discovered his mother and uncle were a part of their own staff? "But wait," she said suddenly, frowning. "Rudi's been here a few months now. Why hasn't Gary said anything yet?"

"Three-month probational period," Ash said grimly. "It takes a while for something as big as the Stadium to really change hands. But now that it officially has..." He sighed. "Gary's holding it over me like he's doing me some Mew-cursed _favor_. He knows getting them fired will do nothing but piss me off, and since I'm _already_ pissed off, he considers it some funny, twisted irony that he has no reason to turn them in anymore."

"But...he could," said Misty slowly, watching him.

"He could," Ash agreed, looking annoyed. "They're both prepared for the eventuality, but it'll still be a pain in the ass when it happens. And I—" He stopped suddenly—caught himself, more like, his eyes breezing over her as he remembered who he was talking to. Misty pulled her legs up under her and watched him.

"And?" she prompted softly.

His eyes flicked over her again and he sighed, looking away. "And I don't want them to go," he finished quietly. "My mom's overprotective and annoying and my uncle's uncomfortable around me, but...I like having them here, you know?"

"I know," Misty told him, patting the space beside her again. Ash crossed the room and sat gingerly beside her, one leg curled so he could wrap an arm around it and lean his chin on his knee. Misty looked at the hands she'd pooled in her lap. She really could be expelled, she realized. Right now the headMasters were under the impression that Ash had tricked her somehow, but if Gary or Rudi were to convince them otherwise...she would be forced to leave too.

"He won't touch you," said Ash suddenly, and Misty was startled to look up and find him watching her. "He might try and use you to get to me again, but he won't hurt you. I think he's well aware of what will happen if he tries."

As flattered as Misty was that Ash had just insinuated that he'd fight for her, she really didn't want it. "I can take care of myself, you know," she reminded him. "He can't hurt me and he'll _never_ use me again, so relax. The worst he can do is expel me."

Ash sighed. "He'll probably try," he told her with a glance, "but not right now. Later, when you least expect it. That's how he is."

Misty watched him quietly for a moment, until his ears tipped pink with embarrassment and he tightened his arm around his leg uncertainly. "What?" he asked hesitantly. Misty looked back down at her hands.

"Why does he hate you so much?" she wanted to know. "I know whatever happened to his grandfather probably had something to do with your dad, but why does he hate _you_? Didn't that happen before you were born?"

Ash took a moment to reply, long enough that Misty was about to tell him he didn't have to. She wanted to know—desperately wanted to know—but not if it was painful for him, which, by the way he was frowning, it probably was. He pushed his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose and stared heatedly at the top of the canvas covering his toes.

"I don't know," he said finally, shaking his head slowly. "I really don't know. His grandfather had a falling out with my dad before I was born, and he's vowed to get rid of me ever since. I don't understand it."

Misty reached up to stroke his arm, daring to scoot a little closer when Ash didn't immediately pull away. "Maybe he's just crazy then, Ash," she suggested softly. "You're his scapegoat for everything he's had to put up with. Is it true that his family's finances were drained trying to take care of his grandfather?"

"Yes. He's still employed here because he's actually good at what he does, when he's not spending his time trying to corner me, but whatever he doesn't need goes straight to his grandfather's hospital bills. But that's not my fault!" he added angrily, squeezing his knee tighter. "If I earned money, I'd give it to him. I hate what my dad did to his grandfather, though Mew knows I can understand it if he was as ruthless as Gary's always been, but Raikou's. I don't really care. I just want him to leave me alone, and leave the Pokémon living below the Stadium alone, and leave you and your friend and my family alone, but he won't. The bastard just _won't_." He looked away from Misty suddenly, his eyes lowering with his voice as he added a soft, "And call me selfish, Misty, but I can't get myself to either."

Misty gave him a small smile. Ash looked confused when he saw it, then startled as Misty reached up and slid the glasses from his face. He automatically averted his gaze, but Misty didn't press him; just folded the glasses and set them on her other side, well out of his reach. "Then I'm selfish too," she told him, "because I can't get myself to stay away from you either, even though I know I'm a distraction from the things you have to do down below."

"You're not a distraction," Ash mumbled, clearly made uncomfortable without his glasses on.

"No? You are for me." Misty grinned at the confused look on his face and scooted close enough to lean lightly against him, ignoring the way he stiffened. "You distracted me all day today," she continued leisurely. "I was actually reprimanded once or twice for falling behind in group discussions."

"I'm sorry," Ash apologized hastily, "I didn't mean to—"

"It was nice," Misty broke in with a grin, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. "Having something other than Pokémon to think about for a change, I mean. You know?"

Ash stared at her for a moment, a mixture between surprise and confusion written all over his face, before he remembered he didn't have his glasses on and quickly looked away again, evidence of a faint blush creeping over his cheeks. "I know," he agreed softly, embarrassed. "I like being up here more than down by that lake. It's...different."

"Just different?" Misty teased, wondering how far he'd let her go this time before shying away again. She slipped an arm around his back loosely, fingers drifting over the taut muscles there. A moment later she was trying to message the tension out of his shoulders while they tensed further under her hands. She didn't stop and slowly, ever so slowly, he began to relax again.

"A little more than different, I guess," he admitted softly, eyes on his foot again. "It's...nice."

"Just nice?" she teased again, and laughed when he gave her a lost look. "I'm not searching for anything specific, Ash. I'm just glad that you're not running away from me again.

"I never _ran_ from you—" he protested vehemently, but stopped cold when Misty pressed a light kiss to his lips. His shoulders tightened under her hands again, but he didn't make to get up from the bed. Misty smiled in relief, watching him closely in case he changed his mind.

"No?" she asked softly, slowly starting to message his shoulders again. They refused to relax.

"No," he said tersely, his eyes somewhere on the floor. "And I'm not going to run again."

That gave Misty pause. She pulled away a little, noting how uncomfortable he was, and sighed as a small guilty ache started up in her stomach. "I'm sorry, Ash. I don't want to push you into anything, or make you feel like you can't go if you want to—"

"That's not it," Ash interrupted fiercely, the blush completely overtaking his face now. "I don't want to leave—I _don't_, or I would—I just..." He accidentally met her eyes before quickly looking away again, his entire body tense. "I'm just not used to it."

"No one's used to it at first, Ash," Misty told him softly. She wasn't a very physical person either, normally, she just liked being with him. "It takes time to—"

"I don't have time," Ash interrupted again, and this time he met her gaze. "Did you know that my mom and dad were only together for a couple weeks before he was killed?"

Misty stared, unsure of what to say to that. "Well I never asked your mom about it, if that's what you—"

"Two weeks," he said again. "My uncle didn't even know what was going on until my dad was dead and my mom went to him for help with me. What if that happens to us?"

This time Misty was shocked enough to attempt a stammered reply. "That's not—I mean, that kind of thing could _never_—"

"I'm just saying." Ash lowered his eyes to stare unfocused at the ground. "Gary's not gonna hold back anymore, Misty. Rudi and the Harukas are pooling their money to wipe out the entire underground, and while I know the Pokémon will put up a good fight, I just..."

His voice softened as he let it trail off, and Misty realized suddenly that he was scared. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and squeezed, ignoring the way he stiffened again, then leaned her chin against his shoulder and kissed his cheek gently. "That won't ever happen to us, Ash," she told him softly, "_ever_, so don't even think it. Do you want to try this with me?"

Ash turned his head to look at her, confused that she would ask such a thing. "Of course I do, I—"

"Then let's try it," she said firmly. "I love you, remember? I'm not going anywhere, no matter what happens."

Ash smiled at the look of conviction on her face. "I know you're as worried as I am," he told her, and she blinked in surprised. "The way your face is set gives it away. I know you have your graduation to worry about, and what you're going to do after it, and all the stuff you have to do to prepare for it—not to mention all of this stuff with me, because I know no matter how much I try, you'll never let me keep it to myself. Then there's Rudi and Gary, and I know my mom and Drake are probably giving you hell, so I just..."

He looked at her for a moment, another blush creeping over his cheeks, then leaned forward and kissed her lightly, looking embarrassed at the surprised look she gave him. "I just don't want you to think you have to worry about me too," he explained quickly. "You don't have to treat me like a cornered Rattata, and I don't want you to. I'm not going anywhere either."

**X**


	17. Past the Point of No Return

**Phantom**

**Act iv Stage i  
**

_Past the Point of No Return_

_November flew by. _

Misty wanted to complain about her lack of time, but found herself enjoying the activities that filled it too much to try. Her lessons were difficult during this final stretch of her schooling; more difficult than they ever had been before, and while a few of them remained strictly book readings and lectures on topics like Pokémon history and budgeting concerns, the vast majority of them had finally become practical. At least one of her Pokémon was able to join her for nearly ever class period, which not only helped to increase her good mood during the day, but shaved off a lot of exercise time she had normally set aside for them over the weekend.

The only real setback to her abundantly good humor was Rudi. Well, not him exactly, but the things he insisted on continuing to do for her, the least of which was explaining her Rapidash's unexpectedly early Evolution to the two confused, suspicious headMasters. He'd been a random observer in class the day Fire Master Blaine had unexpectedly asked Misty to call out her Ponyta to demonstrate to the class how well-Trained she was in contrast to her obviously mixed blood, and had stepped smoothly in to whisper something into the Master's ear while the older man stood in shock at the towering Rapidash shaking her flaming head before him. Misty had bit her lip and watched, her stomach in knots over what he could be saying, but when Blaine closed his mouth and shook his head numbly, Rudi clasped his hands behind his back and stepped aside, giving Misty a brief, unreadable glance before sliding out of the Arena entirely. She couldn't find him afterwards, nor would he answer his cell phone, and upon calling his room she was told by his secretary that he had left her a short message, which she hastily made her way to his office for. On it was a flowy, "You're welcome. I would appreciate it if you didn't attempt to sabotage your hard-earned graduation any further, as I cannot guarantee I will be permitted to attend every one of your lessons this semester, nor explain how I was able to prevent your expulsion in them afterward."

The comment was so blatantly trying to guilt her into sullying any time she spent with Ash that Misty immediately crumpled it into a tight, furious ball and lobbed it unceremoniously at the door to his suite. She had been about to thank him for going out of his way to help her out of the trouble she'd clearly gotten herself into, but if he was going to arrogantly assume that she wanted his help in every aspect of her student life—and make glaringly obvious insinuations about her recent decisions to boot—then Misty wanted none of him. She would _not _ let him make her into the bad guy in all of this, even if the vast majority of everything that had happened between them had been her fault. He was twenty-three years old, for Mew's sake; it was time he sucked it up and dealt with it instead of making these sly, underhand attempts to force sympathy on her and ultimately win her back. The whole thing was ridiculous.

He did, however, manage to avoid her for the most part, and she him, and that _did _ produce a little guilty lump in her gut. She liked him. A lot, really. She didn't want to date him—knew his naturally controlling nature would drive her crazy to the point of homicide—but she did love him, even if she'd had to break his heart before she could realize it was platonic. His feelings, on the other hand, were clearly not. She only hoped he could realize that she wasn't coming back—that this thing with Ash was not some fling born of curiosity and typical senior-class experimentation—before his good intentions went too far and one of them was hurt more than both of them were now. She wished they could be friends. She just wasn't sure how to go about that without giving him the wrong idea.

Misty didn't consider herself a coward in most things, but the possibility of giving Rudi another false hope and then shattering it again left her terrified. She knew she was hiding behind Ash—following him down underground and letting him show her around for no other reason than to avoid having to deal with Rudi above—and she was fairly sure Ash knew it too, but neither of them mentioned it, and for that she was grateful. Brock brought it up once, only to hurriedly backtrack and change the topic to his budding success with Suzie at the half-angry glare, half-terrified plea she'd managed to level at him. She didn't want to talk about it. She knew that was cowardly as well, and hated herself for her weakness, but she was happy with Ash—really, truly happy—and she didn't want to muck that up with guilt for Rudi in the limited time she knew she had with him.

That was guilty lump number two, really. Leaving Ash. She didn't want to at all, but unless she found a job at the Stadium—which was the last thing she wanted, if she was going to be honest with herself—she had no idea how to stay. She considered asking Ash to leave, but hesitated when she thought of how terrifying that would be for him. He had very obviously never left the Stadium before, with the exception of several small excursions into the forest lining the east side of the city, where he told her the underground lake drained out to, and she wasn't sure it was within her rights to upend his entire world here and drag him out by his ears. She wanted to—oh, Mew, how she wanted to take him with her—but she was sure that was selfish of her, and couldn't bring herself to ask lest Ash thought the same. She would bring it up with Brock, she decided, and together she knew they would come up with something. Eventually. Only he seemed so happy hanging out with Suzie that she couldn't bring herself to soil his good mood with her own problems. The next time they had a serious talk about things, she promised herself she would mention it.

In the meantime, though, she was more than content to sit back and relax with Ash as he gradually opened up to her. It took some patience on her part and some determination on his, but he made it very clear early on that he _wanted _ to, even if he didn't have a clue how to go about it, so they started out with simple things and worked their way up until eventually he was as comfortable around her as she had seen him with his Pokémon. Usually. Every now and then she would surprise him with something unexpected and he would instinctively clam up again, but she found that if she gave him a little time, he was able to work up the courage to overcome whatever mental hurdle he'd constructed and confide in her.

Their first major hurdle was sleeping arrangements.

Misty honestly hadn't thought this would come up very early on. They usually met after classes and Ash would stay late, but when it was time for her to sleep he had no objection to retiring back to his own rooms below the Stadium. Misty knew he kept long days, between seeing her and dealing with Gary's recent flood of people trying to map the underground, but he never complained about it—actually told her with an abashed, goofy grin that he liked what he did with his time—and the feeble arguments about rest and adequate sleep that Misty attempted to make went unheeded as Ash consistently found something to distract her with. Sometimes it was a new Pokémon; other times it was an interesting story about himself that he had neglected to share before. Misty felt the beginnings of the frustration she had felt before rise up again, back when they had first started meeting and he'd expertly dodged every attempt she made to learn something about him, but only the beginnings; he was actually divulging quite a lot, anything she wanted to know, really, though some things took a little effort for him to share. As long as he found ample time to sleep, Misty certainly wasn't about to complain about his company.

But no matter how late it got, or how interesting their conversations grew, he flat-out refused to sleep aboveground with her. Not with words, of course, but he may as well have just told her. After much poking and prodding she was finally able to deduce that it had something to do with sleeping outside of the sanctity of his maze of rooms as a child, but that was all he would say. Misty didn't press anymore. Everyone had a fear, she figured, and if his was being trapped aboveground while he slept, she certainly wasn't going to begrudge him for it, especially after what had happened last time, when he was _awake_.

Still, he looked tired. Content and happy, yes, but he never looked like he'd gotten quite enough sleep the night before, and he was always showing up with new cuts, scrapes, and bruises from his neverending battle with the swarms of Trainers Gary had summoned from Mew knew where. Every now and then he would come back with a painful-looking burn wrapped clumsily in ripped clothing. Misty worried about him and he knew it, and they'd had more than one argument about the differences between being cautious and taking chances for the sake of every Pokémon hidden beneath the Stadium, but neither ever really won, and Ash usually settled for letting Misty treat him with Potions and medical supplies smuggled out to them by his mother, while Misty had to make do with lecturing him for his goddamned Superman complex while she worked. She wanted to _help _, but between homework and classwork and training she just had no _time _ anymore, save helping him come up with plans of attack by pouring over crude maps he'd either found or sketched for her on the spot. She felt like she was at war, and the feeling was made all the more intimidating by the fact that no one around her seemed to notice. Construction signs went up. Bright orange notifications dotted the majority of the rooms on the ground floor. Everyone assumed the Stadium was simply getting a jump start on its winter break renovations, and though they found it mildly annoying, she and Brock were the only ones to sidestep the areas like the war zones they were.

Gary rarely said anything to her, and instead seemed content to simply grin maniacally from across whichever room or hall she'd stumbled across him in. It was all Misty could do during most of these encounters to restrain herself from hitting him. He was overseeing the little underground invasion in order to wear out Ash, she knew, and his audacity to gloat about it set her teeth on edge. Usually, though, he was too busy to be found wandering the halls, and instead had turned over most security issues to his head subordinates, Jesse and James, who did a decent enough job with their talking Meowth. Drake kept the Master especially busy by burying him in as much legal work as he could find, and together with access to the older records Ash could dredge up from those rooms of books beneath the Stadium, Gary Oak was barely allowed enough free time to eat and sleep. Kept busy with the charges leveled against him, though, Drake was in a tight spot as well, and with his tenure now nonexistent he was forced to come up with an adequate legal defense in the paper battle he was now waging against Oak. All of the technical documents made Misty's head spin, and while she'd offered to help Drake if he ever needed her, they both knew her strength lay with more practical matters.

The pre-exam break sidling ever closer looked to be a much-needed break for everyone. Drake's court date was set for the last day of November, which happened to lie in the middle of the week, and plans were laid out with Brock's family for both Misty and Suzie to come visit. Misty had briefly considered trying to opt out of them this year—with no family of her own to go to, she'd spent every pre-exam break with Brock and his family since they'd been friends here—but it was such a longstanding tradition of theirs and Brock's siblings were looking forward to it so much that she couldn't bring herself to mention her fears to Brock. She couldn't take Ash with her. She knew instinctively that that was out of the question. But she didn't want to leave him alone, either; she was afraid either Gary or Rudi or the headMasters or even all three would take advantage of the student body's absence in order to make some sort of grand attack on him.

As it turned out, Ash had been worrying about the same thing.

"We've taken every precaution we could think of," he explained to her when she brought it up. "We've been collapsing those tunnels I worked out with you for the last couple weeks. I'm not coming out. I've set up scouts and message routes and everything so that I know what's going on and I can find out what Gary's doing, so it shouldn't be too bad."

Misty was still skeptical. "He'll plan for that, Ash. You know what he's like. He'll probably try to invade those rooms down there himself."

Ash only shrugged. "A lot of Pokémon hope he tries. I'm keeping the heavy hitters back there with me, and some of them have already suffered losses from those bastard Trainers. If any of them show up, Charizard, for one, won't be holding back."

The capture of that mother Charizard's young Charmander had been the pride of the Trainer who'd caught—and subsequently sold—the prize Fire Pokémon, but Misty could tell by the attitudes her own Pokémon had about the incident that such feelings were only shared by the humans. The Charmander had been too young to raise on its own and severely injured during its capture; Misty herself felt sick at the obscene amount of money the Trainer had made from its bruised and battered body. It was then that Ash had actually begun to let loose the more advanced Pokémon, and it was also then that all of the construction signs had moved as Gary was forced to rethink his strategy.

There really was a war going on just a few hundred feet below, and all the students around Misty could talk about was Christmas, the end of the schoolyear, and the upcoming graduation ceremony.

"You can't blame them," Ash told her. He was watching her clean her room so that she could pack for Brock's at the end of the week. "They came here for school, not for...this."

"They could still _open their eyes _ a little," Misty huffed back, balling up a wad of dirty clothes and chucking it into the overflowing hamper peeking out of her closet. "I mean, _really_. More and more Pokémon are being hauled up from down there every day, and none of them are in good condition, if they're even _alive _."

"You know a lot of them would rather die than let themselves be taken—"

"Exactly! And what does that say about the people using _guns _ and _Masterballs _ and Mew knows that else? Honestly, sometimes I think the Licensing process should be a hell of a lot harder. Giving people like that permission to raise Pokémon...They're just greedy, selfish bastards who would rather break a Pokémon than take the time to tame it..."

Ash watched her accentuate her words with periodic kicks to the pile of shoes that had begun tumbling over themselves into the path she'd cleared to the door, his arms crossed as he sat on her bed and leaned against the headboard. "You know I agree," he told her quietly, "but they're not all bad. You're not bad. Gary just picked the worst he could find because he likes to piss me off, but there are _worthy _Trainers out there too. You shouldn't forget that."

"I can count all of them in my graduating class on one hand!" Misty fumed. She knew she was exaggerating a little—of her two hundred or so graduating peers, at least thirty of them would probably go on to be good, successful Trainers, Breeders, and Gym Leaders—but in her current state of angry irritation she didn't particularly care. Ash gave her a withered look.

"So help make more. In a few years all of your Pokémon will be fully grown and you can apply for a League. Trainees listen to powerful Trainers; you'd be perfect."

Misty didn't reply to that for a moment, shuffling the books, papers, and Pokémon feed around on her desk as an excuse not to look at him. She had no desire to participate in a League. Maybe she had, not long ago, but now she wasn't sure what she wanted to do, and she wasn't sure how she could do it without Ash. Hadn't he thought about this at all? She could never bring herself to ask him about it just in case he hadn't. She wasn't sure how she should feel yet if he said he'd rather stay, or if he said he wanted to go with her. And...she owed it to him to at least figure out how she felt about it either way before she started asking the same of him. She figured she could mull it over during the course of the week and ask him before she left on Saturday, so that he would be able to mull it over himself while she was gone.

Then again, a schoolweek had never zipped by so quickly.

If Ash wanted to stay, she finally decided, he would stay. She would still go. She'd briefly considered staying on as someone like Drake, but she'd already spent ten long years in the Stadium, and she had no desire to stay any longer. Rudi and Gary aside, she just couldn't bring herself to remain somewhere she knew she would be miserable, even for Ash. She'd probably eventually get irritable enough that he'd rather she was gone anyway.

Which meant if Ash wanted to go...well. She honestly couldn't _imagine _ him going, but if he did...they could figure things out from there. Probably. No one outside the Stadium knew who or what he was; she couldn't imagine anyone actually tracking him down. If worse came to worse they could always crash at her sisters' for a little while and get their feet under them doing...something. She wasn't sure what yet, and if leaving was actually Ash's decision, she'd rather make further plans with him instead of alone.

With these thoughts lodged firmly in her mind, she found it very frustrating not to be able to put them to use right away. Ash wasn't waiting for her in her room after her last class Friday afternoon. Not a completely uncommon occurrence, but a slightly worrying one nonetheless, and with a bus ticket to Pewter in her pocket for early the next morning, incredibly untimely.

She went to see Brock, but he was too busy discussing an exam on egg care with Suzie to figure out a way to reach Ash with her. With all the Trainers prowling the underground halls there were no wandering Pokémon to find her, and she'd be severely questioned if she was caught down there alone. Normally it wasn't a big deal to wait for him, but Misty was tired of putting this off. She wanted to know where they were going with this, and she wanted to know _now_.

"Check Delia's," Brock suggested in a whisper, when the frustration and anxiety on her face had finally become apparent. "I bet if she doesn't know where he is, she knows how to reach him."

He had a point there, Misty knew, but the woman had been so busy treating victims of the wild Pokémon's attacks that she hadn't wanted to bother her. As head human nurse in the Stadium, sabotaging the men attacking her son would very quickly become obvious, especially with Gary keeping an eye out for anything even remotely suggesting such a thing. Delia had to be under enough stress as it was, bandaging up the men that were attacking her son so that they could continue the assault.

But...maybe she could talk to the woman for a little while before going to find Ash. Maybe she had some idea of what he wanted for his future, instead of this impression she kept getting over and over that he intended to just take up after the however many other Elementals had lived in secret beneath the Stadium, caring for the Pokémon and helping out the Trainees who needed it. The difference, she'd gathered, between him taking up after his father and his father taking up after he and Drake's mother, was that Ash was truly the last one down there, and the last thing Misty wanted was for him to have to go back to living alone—if such a thing was even possible after Gary and Rudi were finished with him.

The light in her room was on, but the room itself was empty. Pausing to make sure Delia wasn't simply busy with something in the back, Misty cursed on her way back to the door. With those trick floorboards hidden beneath the bed in Delia's room, she'd taken to treating most of her patients in the Stadium's standard infirmary rooms, but the last thing Misty wanted was to be seen talking to her for no reason, and with Jesse and James's beefed security, it would be nearly impossible to pull her aside in secret while she was busy treating Gary's lackeys. _Dammit_. Luck was not on her side today.

"Pikachupi!"

Misty started and spun back around. Pikachu was crawling out from beneath the bed with the hidden panel, and behind the mouse Misty heard a soft thump. Her eyes widened when Ash's scuffed hand appeared, closely followed by a pair of swirling chocolate eyes as he peered up at her from over the top of his sunglasses. A crooked smile appeared on his face. "Hey. We thought you might've been someone looking for my mom."

Misty was forced to bend over and pick up Pikachu before she could respond, kicking the door closed behind her. The Pokémon curled up in her arms comfortably and cooed while she scratched the top of his head, mindful of the remains of teeth marks now dotting one ear. "I was," she told him simply, "but only because I was looking for you." She felt her nervousness rise up again as he crawled out from under the bed and looked at her curiously.

"For me? What for?" He pushed himself up from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed instead. Misty did her usual once-over before coming over to sit beside him, setting Pikachu gently in her lap. He didn't seem to be sporting anything serious, just a scratch or two on his cheek that hadn't been there the day before. He glanced briefly at her once before flushing slightly and quickly removing his sunglasses, folding them in his hands. "Sorry, I keep forgetting."

That hadn't actually been why Misty was looking at him sideways this time, but she was grateful they were off. She hated talking to her own reflection. "I was just wondering," she forced herself to say, "what you were planning to do after this thing with Gary is over."

Ash stiffened almost imperceptibly, and Misty knew he knew what she was talking about.

"Uh..."

And now he was stalling. She frowned as anger began to replace her anxiety.

"Well, see—"

"You've thought about this before, haven't you."

He didn't even bother trying to lie, instead giving her a wincing look as Pikachu peered up at her curiously. This only irritated Misty further. "You _have _ been thinking about it. And you didn't tell me."

"Well so have you!" Ash blurted in his own defense. "And you didn't tell _me_."

"What am I supposed to tell _you_?" Misty demanded, confused. "You're the one who's supposed to decide!"

"The decision's not all mine! I can't decide anything until I know stuff!"

"_Stuff?_" Pikachu had stood in Misty's lap now, and was tugging at her shirt insistently. Misty scratched his head absently as she glared at Ash. "What _stuff_?"

Ash's eyes fell to his fingers, tugging at the remains of some linen wound around his wrist in place of his gloves. Misty frowned at him, her confusion growing but able now to curb her frustration. Whatever Ash had been thinking about, it was obviously difficult for him.

"What stuff, Ash?" she repeated, and though her tone was still a little on the demanding side, it had lost its sharp edge. "It's your decision whether you want to stay here or leave; I can't choose for you." Her stomach was twisting anxiously at actually saying the words to him aloud, but she did her best to ignore it. She had to hear him out on this. And the sooner she did, the better.

At first Ash only shrugged, but before Misty could press further he scowled at his fingers and sighed. "I can't decide if I want to leave if I don't know..." He paused and glanced at her, his eyes a swirling mixture of chocolate and gold. "Do you really not mind if I come with you?"

Misty's stomach clenched. She forced herself to ignore it. "Are you really considering it?"

Ash shrugged again, his arm brushing against hers as he moved it over to accept Pikachu, who was pawing for him. Settling the mouse in his own lap now, he seemed a little less unsteady as he ran his hands over the bright yellow fur. "I dunno. It's a possibility, right? If I can get all the Pokémon out, keep Gary from collapsing the whole damn Stadium on accident...He's made it clear he's not going to let me just live down there anymore. Did you know he tells the younger Trainees he got those purple scars around his neck from fighting _me_? Even if he uses up all his funds trying to run me aground, he's trying to bring back all the old stories his grandfather and people used against the other Elementals. I dunno, he might even attract real attention with it. The last thing I want to have to do is dodge people trying to find and capture _me_."

Ah, Misty got it now. Leaving was still a last resort to him, but one preferable to a lifetime of hiding— _real _ hiding, not just flitting about out of sight. Misty wondered if that was how he'd think of things. She wanted to be frustrated at him, for his lack of _adventure _ or whatever you called it, for the way he'd rather duck down and slink along in things he found familiar instead of taking a chance on something knew. But she knew she couldn't be. She would never have left the care of her sisters if she hadn't been forced to, uncomfortable as it had been there, and she wasn't the one widely considered to be some… _anomaly _ to the human race. Leaving the one place he could find sanctuary in had to be a daunting task. She'd thought about that. She _knew_. She just didn't like it.

"You know, Ash," she reminded him quietly, gently bumping shoulders, "it might not be that bad. At least out there no one really _knows _ about you, you know?"  
"I know," Ash sighed, letting himself lean slightly against her. It was something they'd both become comfortable doing lately. "It's just..." He hesitated.

"I know," Misty finished for him. She scuffed her feet on the floor as they sat in semi-comfortable silence for a moment, the soft whish of Pikachu's tongue as he cleaned himself the only real sound in the room. A sudden burst of motion from the hallway made Ash stiffen momentarily, then sigh and slowly relax again as the laughter of two male students carried through the door.

"You should go," Misty told him. She didn't want him getting caught up here, or even being seen, and now that she'd told him what she wanted him to know, she wanted to go think about it on her own some more.

Ash scrubbed his fingers behind the Pokémon's ears. "I know. Tell my mom to send her Rattata down for me later? I had something I wanted to talk to her about, but there was a big Battle by the lake earlier; she might be busy for a while."

"All right." Misty wanted to ask what he needed, but before she could form the words there was a loud knock on the door. Ash and Pikachu were crouched down between the beds and quickly sliding under one when Rudi's voice sounded from the other side.

"Delia? Are you in here?"

Ash paused and looked up at her in alarm, and Misty returned the look almost fearfully. Oh _Mew_, this was awful timing.

"Do you want me to—"

"No, are you _crazy_? Go!"

"But—"

The door clicked open and Rudi poked his head through. When his eyes fell on Misty, half-bent over the side of the bed as Ash disappeared from view, the genial smile on his face vanished and he leaned against the doorframe as he regarded her for a moment with a frown. "You shouldn't be here," he remarked tonelessly.

Misty finished pushing herself up into a proper sitting position and returned his disappointed expression. "Why not?" She had just as much right to see Delia as any other student here.

"It makes you look bad." His expression was very carefully blank, and even though his statement echoed Misty's thoughts, it made her fume.

"I don't care how it makes me _look_, Rudi. _Mew_, I can do what I want."

He crossed his arms carefully against his chest, still halfway between the room and the hall outside. "As I'm sure you will," he replied dryly. "Anyway, I did not, for a change, come here to see _you_. When you next see Delia, tell her Oak wanted a word, will you?"

Misty was surprised. "What—" she began, but Rudi only gave her a pointed look, somehow managing to mix it with boredom, and pulled the door closed behind him as he slipped from the room entirely. Misty was left staring in worry and confusion for a moment as a soft scuffle from beneath her announced Ash's return.

"He's _not _ talking to my mother," he announced through gritted teeth, then reached up for Misty's hand, his eyes a swirling mix of black and yellow now. "Come on, we'll find her before they do."

**X**

Gary Oak had always acted rather hostile towards Delia. While physical actions would have certainly gotten him fired, he'd never been very kind to her, and had always gone out of his way to keep watch of her actions. Together, she and Ash had managed to find ways around them, of course, but he'd made himself a constant nuisance to her nonetheless.

And now no one seemed to know where she was.

Drake was alarmed to hear that Ash was looking for her—apparently he kept as close tabs on his mother as she did on him. Instead of feeling embarrassed at this small revelation, Ash growled an order to notify him if Drake happened to find her and dragged Misty back up into the rafters again. She'd become vaguely used to them over the course of the last month, but she didn't think she'd ever grow fully accustomed to the stench of the dust as it threatened to clog her mouth and nose, or the grit and grim coating her fingertips as she ran them over the walls.

Pikachu was gone. He'd scrambled off to conduct his own search for Ash's mother, able to squeeze into some of the smaller passages far easier than either of the two humans. Their next stop was, Misty was shocked to note, the office of Drake's teaching assistant, a grad student by the name of Lance. He was actually older than Drake himself, but kept on at the Stadium in order to use its more advanced Water enclosures to study his one-of-a-kind Red Gyarados. Misty was only familiar with him through his sporadic displays of the prize Pokémon; otherwise he was a bit of a recluse, and only spoke to the undergrad students when he absolutely needed their help in something concerning his research, or Drake needed his assistance teaching a particularly difficult lesson in his Dragon class.

"My uncle introduced us," Ash told her by way of explanation, callused fingers working open a panel in the floor. "His Gyarados was ill, and he would only thrash at the healers who tried to examine him, so he called me." He grunted as the panel finally popped free and concentrated on not dropping it as he shifted the wood to the side.

"What was wrong with it?" Misty asked curiously, kneeling across from him to help. He nodded his thanks.

"Nothing. He just wanted out for a while. I took him to the lake underground for a few days, and when I brought him back he was fine. I take him down there once every couple months now. New waters, new Pokémon, that was all he needed. Stay here."

Before Misty could protest, Ash slipped deftly through the hole and into what was very obviously another office. Misty had no idea where they were; she was prone to getting turned around between the walls.

There was a sound of surprise from somewhere Misty couldn't see. She poked her head out to look around, and ignored the glare she got from Ash at the gesture, instead turning to see Lance's eyes widen even further as they caught on her. The Dragon trainer was sitting behind his desk, red pen poised above what looked like a stack of essay exams.

"Waterflower," he murmured, and Misty was surprised he knew her by name. Then a smile crept over his face, and his gaze flicked back to Ash. "So that's who you've been—"

"Not now, Lance," Ash cut in, and though Misty was curious to see what the man had been prepared to say about her, she was anxious to find Delia as well. "I'm looking for my mom. Have you seen her?"

"Well, now." Lance reclined in his seat a little, not really relaxing, just leaning back to regard Ash with a sharper eye. "What makes you think—"

" _Don't_," Ash practically snapped, and Misty was sure she saw his gaze flicker to her. It took a moment to realize he was speaking to this man without his glasses on. So Lance knew what he was. That was...interesting, especially considering no one had ever mentioned him before, nor alluded to that fact that anyone but Drake and Delia knew of Ash's continued existence beneath the Stadium.

Lance's amber eyes flashed in a bit of a grin before he leaned back over the pile of papers on his desk and began taking the pen to them once more, a shrug rolling across his shoulders. "I'm afraid I haven't seen her."

"Tauros' tail, you—"

"She did leave me a note, though."

Ash paused as if waiting for him to continue, but he never did. Eventually his hands tightened in frustration. " _Well? _ What did it—"

"Are you sure you really want to know?" Misty could swear the man was teasing, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, head still bent but eyes lifted to regard Ash thoughtfully. Ash glared.

"Just tell me the...the _gist _ of it," he finally ground out. Lance sighed in acquiescence.

"The gist. Hmm, the gist." The man began tapping the pen to his lips thoughtfully. "Hmm. The gist would probably be that she was called in for questioning regarding Master Drake's case, and probably wouldn't be back until later tonight, at the earliest."

Ash looked visibly relieved.

"And that she would appreciate it if she could spend the night in my—"

"Stop! That's all I needed!"

"—company," Lance finished, and this time smirked openly at Ash, chin rested in the palm of his hand as he leaned his elbow comfortably on the desktop. "She's avoiding Gary Oak, if I understand correctly," he continued. "Though Oak seems to have disappeared as well, so I'm not sure her efforts are worth the exertion. How are you, Miss Waterflower? I happened to catch your Gyarados demonstration earlier this week. Very nice, his scales are impressively smooth."

Misty started, those intelligent amber eyes suddenly focused on her. Ash mumbled something to the man and began climbing back up through the hole beside her.

"Er. Thank you. I'm all right." She didn't think she'd ever spoken with Lance in person before, only through lectures. He let the students see his gigantic Pokémon so rarely that the hall was always filled when he did.

"Delia's told me a lot about you, though she always refrained from dropping a name. I'm glad it's you, though. Everything fits so perfectly."

"Er..."

"Come on..."

Ash took that moment to tug on her upper arm. Misty was reluctant to trade the light of Lance's office for the dusty darkness of the ceiling again, but she didn't refuse. Ash only gave her a brief look, eyes glowing faintly in the sudden absence of light, and quickly worked to replace the panel. Lance's dry chuckle managed to creep through before it closed.

"What was that about?" Misty asked as soon as they were alone again. She got the distinct impression Ash was rolling his eyes at her.

"Nothing. It was about nothing. Come on, if Mom's okay we should find Pikachu."

Misty wondered if she should comment on Gary's supposed absence, ask if it had anything to do with Delia's, since the two coincided, but she figured Ash was already thinking about it, and followed him in near silence as he led her back through the maze of passages to Mew knew where.

Delia had never mentioned Lance to her before, and she wondered why. He seemed like a very interesting man. While Misty had certainly seen Ash flustered before, she'd never seen him quite like that, and it intrigued her. She'd have to ask his mother about it later.

"Here. Hang on, there are people around."

Misty paused at Ash's voice, and together the two of them listened for a moment to the shuffles and murmurs of students passing by just below them. "Where are we?"

"The hall outside your room. You should get ready for your break, and I should go find Pikachu and finish barricading some stuff."

"Come with me first?"

Ash looked up at her; she could tell because there was a flicker of gold from his direction. She met his eyes for a moment before he bent to unlatch the hidden panel. It was in the corner this time, just above one of the sconces, and Misty blinked as the two of them were suddenly flooded with light.

"Okay," he finally agreed, and hooked a hand around the sconce to swing himself down to the hall floor. Misty paused to glance at the missing panel, still sitting beside the gaping hole, then followed him, albeit at a much slower, careful pace. Looking up from the floor, she saw that the light cast the entire ceiling in shadow, and the missing panel was lost in the rest of the dark gloom.

"Come on," Ash urged her, and she remembered that more students could come along at any moment. Quickly digging her keys from the depths of her pocket, she unlocked the door to her room and let Ash slip inside ahead of her.

It looked a little like a Snorlax had tumbled through. Ash stopped in the middle and grinned at all the school debris coating the bed, the desk, and even the floor.

"Shut up," Misty mumbled, using his shoulder as an anchor so that she could carefully step over the large piles. "I started digging through all my old stuff so I could get rid of the papers I didn't need and take the ones I did with me to Brock's to study. I just...never finished."

"Obviously," Ash murmured, crouching down in the little clearing he'd found to glance over the stack set aside for Horsea. "Need any help?"

"I thought you said you had to finish some barricades or something," Misty said with a frown. She recognized this procrastination tactic of his, and while she usually let him stay upstairs with her to give him a break from all that wearying Battle stuff, she didn't want anything to be left undone while he was vulnerable during the students' absence. Ash shrugged.

"There's only a few things, we can probably finish them overnight."

"And Pikachu?" Misty pressed. Ash set his mouth. He knew the mouse was still looking for Delia. Finally, he sighed and pushed himself back up to his feet.

"All right, fine, I'll go."

"Wait, Ash."

Before he could turn to leave Misty had picked her way back over to him and half-urged, half-forced him to fall backwards onto her bed. She came with him, and though a few dozen papers crumpled and folded and creaked their protest, Misty didn't pay them any mind. This was her trash pile, and she didn't care what happened to them.

Ash seemed confused when she prevented him from getting up again, but only for a moment. Then she leaned in to kiss him, and she knew from the initial moment of hesitation, then fervent reciprocation that he was as anxious about spending a week alone as she was. His arm snaked around her back and Misty shifted so that she wasn't crushing him so much, now leaning half of her weight on his hip and the other half on the edge of the bed. When they finally broke apart neither made any move to put any distance between them.

"Be careful down there, all right?" Misty cautioned, meeting his eyes. They were mostly brown with hints of gold now as he looked at her.

"I will." His voice was slightly rougher than usual, and it made Misty smile. His hand slid up to stroke the back of her neck as he added a soft, "And you make sure you come back."

Misty rolled her eyes and pressed another kiss to his lips, then took a moment to lie her head on his shoulder, sighing. "Of course I will, Ash. Don't be stupid." She could feel him snort beneath her cheek.

"I'm not being stupid, I'm just saying. Gary might try something."

"He can't keep me from graduating."

"He might _try_."

"I'm more concerned that he'll be focusing all of his attentions on _you_."

Ash didn't reply for a moment, his heartbeat pounding rhythmically near her jaw. "Yeah," he finally replied, "well. I'll be careful."

"Good." She was trying her best to believe him.

**X**

As expected, it took Misty much longer than planned to finish cleaning her room out and packing for Brock's, and the end result was that she nearly overslept the next morning. Luckily Brock had thought ahead, and came down to start pounding on her door a good half an hour before she actually needed to be ready to leave. He only laughed when she tried to kick him in the kneecap, and missed because of the sleep dust marring her vision.

Misty hoped she would be able to steal a few moments with Ash before their bus left, but the halls were much to crowded with the bustling student population for him to come out, or for her to try and find him. Pikachu managed a quick goodbye though, licking her cheek once while she stroked his favorite spots and let Brock ruffle the fur on top of his head. He chattered angrily with them for a moment about that, then leaped onto Brock's head, ruffled _his_ hair, adding a good bit of static electricity to keep it from returning to normal, and scampered into the forest of students' legs and feet before the Breeder-in-training could respond. Suzie laughed when they went to pick her up at her room and she saw Brock's grumpy face as he repeatedly ran his hand through his puffy hair, trying to get rid of the static. Misty laughed every time he tried to touch something metal and ended up shocking herself. This phenomenon was not so funny, however, when she was stuck next to him on the bus, and he took full advantage of his newfound ability before it finally fizzled out a couple hours into the ride.

Pewter was a fairly small town, but busy, thanks to Brock's father, and the bus dropped them off where most of its occupants always needed to go: the Pewter Rock Gym itself. A herd of children were tumbling over the lawn when they arrived, only to wash over Brock in a multi-armed, multi-legged wave as the trio stepped away from the bus stop and onto Slate land, pelting him with newly fallen November snow. Brock's father grinned at the spectacle and sidestepped the rolling mass in order to give Misty a familiar hug, then introduce himself to Suzie, who seemed more amused than concerned when Brock cried out for her to help lest his lungs cave in and she be forced to administer CPR.

Really, Misty had barely any time to think to herself again until they went to bed that night, and then she was so worn out from the day's events that she could only manage a few moments of guilty anxiety at leaving Ash behind before she was asleep, half-buried under a few of Brock's little sisters.

Sunday was spent preparing that evening's big dinner, in which Misty spent the majority of it either learning from Brock's parents how to cook, or practicing her new lessons with Suzie and some of the siblings. Brock was the babysitter. Again, she had hardly any time for herself, and she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Monday through Wednesday were spent relaxing with Brock and his family, and trying not to tease too much at the way Suzie seemed to fit right in. Misty wanted to follow the results of Drake's trial, but she was pretty sure it was too minor for any radio station to actually broadcast, and went with Brock's mother, Suzie, and the girls to the mall instead. Random things reminded her of Ash, but there was nothing she could do about his situation right now, and tried not to dwell too much on how he must be faring alone beneath the Stadium. He'd managed to survive for years down there without her around, she rationalized, and would certainly be able to take care of himself for one stupid week.

Thursday she was awakened long before she would have liked by the two-year-old twins, who curled up under her blankets on either side and began whispering in toddler-speech over her back. When she'd finally managed to wake up enough to turn over and tickle them, they screeched and tried to burrow somewhere down near her feet. Laughing, Misty followed them. She liked how comfortable Brock's home was, and how much fun all of his little brothers and sisters were, even if they did wake her up at ungodly hours of the morning on her last break of the year.

Flint was the only other one up in the house, already sipping from a steaming cup of coffee at the kitchen table when Misty made her way down there with a child latched securely to each of her shins, squealing as they sat on her feet and she trumped like a monster down the hall. He looked up and laughed at the sight, then whispered that they should go see if their big brother actually stayed in his own room last night. Squealing with delight this time, the kids scattered and scrambled off down the hall.

"Thanks," Misty told him breathlessly, practically collapsing into the chair across from him. "They're getting heavy."

"Try carrying them to bed every night," Brock's father snorted, raising his mug to his lips again. "Coffee?"

"Please."

Being served like this was nice, and Misty was grateful for it as the man stood and busied himself getting her a glass, leaving the morning paper open on the table half-dissembled. Misty glanced over the black and white columns upside-down from her seat, resting her chin in her palm tiredly. "Anything going on today?" she asked pleasantly, and reached to turn it right-side up for herself. Flint chuckled.

"Oh, plenty. Seems your school is under fire for a few things this morning."

That made Misty's eyes open a little more, and she began flipping through the pages in the hopes of catching a random story. "Oh really? What for?" Her voice was calm, but her mind had immediately fixed on Ash, and on all the possible things that could have happened to him.

"Oh, a bunch of nonsense, really," Flint told her with a sigh. He set her mug down beside her before returning to his own seat. "Their Dragon Master may be canned for some illegal Pokémon peddling operations they uncovered, but the real story's on some of the behind-the-scenes information a few people are swearing is true."

Not in this section. Misty did her best to look nonchalant as she reached for another. "Behind-the-scenes information?"

Flint snorted around his mug. "They're saying an _Elemental_ is responsible for providing him with Pokémon. Bunch of junk, if you ask me. They're just looking for attention so people will fund all those construction prices they need for renovations. I swear, if Brock wasn't graduating this year, we may have had to pull him out; their rates have grown ridiculously high lately."

"Yeah," Misty agreed in a murmur, heart thumping almost painfully. Oh God, oh Mew, this couldn't be good. And where was the damn _story_? "So um, who's saying all this stuff?"

"Some security guy named Gary Oak. He's apparently the grandson of the old professor who invented the Pokédex. Do you know him?"

"Oh, well, kind of. He's head of security. Everyone sees him around." Misty was now praying to every Legendary she could think of that no one would believe Gary any more than they had in the past. "What else is he saying?"

Flint shifted in his seat. "Well it's not so much what he's saying, but who's supporting him. Your headMasters seem to believe him. I'm not sure what to make of it all, I suppose we'll just wait and see."

It was under Flint's arm! Misty tried to look as calm as possible as she gently tugged on the corner, trying to let him know she wanted to see. He gave it up to her easily. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you interested?"

"A little," Misty admitted, flipping it open. She froze in shock at the cover page.

"I guess it is a little interesting," Flint murmured thoughtfully, "especially that picture. And they say they've got the thing trapped somewhere, though why they haven't dragged it out and shown everyone by now is beyond me, if that's really the case. I don't like the thought of you and my son living so close to such a thing, but you've both been living there going on ten years now, and neither of you has ever mentioned anything weird there before…Well. Ancient places like that have been known for their secrets and their hoaxes, eh, Misty? Misty?"

Misty didn't respond. On the front page of the Pewter Post there was a color image of a pair of swirling yellow eyes, and the silhouette of a human body outlined in electricity. Behind it was the faint outline of the red room Misty recognized from Ash's home.

They'd found their way in. They'd cornered him.

**X**

"Brock, look!"

The Breeder groaned and swatted at the crumpled paper being shoved into his face, and Misty promptly brought her fist down over the top of his head. He yelped.

"Mew, Misty! What the hell was that—"

"Ash! Look, they have Ash!"

"They… _What?_"

Rubbing the sleep dust from his eyes tiredly, Brock sat up in his bed, almost curiously devoid of any snoring siblings, and took the proffered paper from her, his eyes narrowing as they lit on the picture and its caption. "Elemental caught beneath the Stadium..."

"Not caught," Misty interrupted, sitting hurriedly on the bed beside him and practically ripping the paper open to point at its continuation inside. " _Trapped_. They have him _trapped_, Brock, back in the very back of all those rooms, and he must be fighting for his _life_."

Brock frowned as his eyes breezed through the article. "Says they've had him trapped since Tuesday," he announced, frown deepening. "The lake's between him and everyone else."

"He's only got so many Water Pokémon!" Misty said wildly. Mew, this was one of her worst fears, just short of Ash actually being caught or dead, but the way things were looking, both were very real possibilities in the near future. "He can't hold them off _forever_!"

"Think he can hold them off till Sunday?" Brock asked, turning to look at her. He had worry and concern written all over his face.

"I don't know! That's three days! What if he _can't_?"

"Well maybe Drake can—"

"Drake's being held after his trial! He was convicted!"  
Brock's frown deepened further, and he began thumbing through the pages in search of some alternative. "Well Delia can—"

"Gary's made her into some sort of an accomplice to Drake!"

"Didn't you say Lance was—"

"Didn't you _read _ it, Brock? He's one of the staff partitioning for Delia's release! He's got his hands full already!"

Brock was shaking his head now, and let his hands fall to his lap over the crumpled paper as he turned to look at Misty seriously. "I know how you must be feeling," he said seriously, "and I know it sucks, but you _do_ know where we are, and what day it is. The very earliest I can get us back is Saturday night, and that's pushing it. Mom and Dad'll flip either way—"

"Then I'll go alone!" Misty declared, shoving herself up to her feet and starting back for her room. Brock caught her wrist and held her back.

"And what the hell are you going to do alone?"

"Like I know! _Something!_" She tried tugging her wrist free. That last thing she wanted right now was to have to sit here, nearly two hundred miles away, and do _nothing_.

"Wait a minute, Misty, hang on." Brock stood behind her and insistently tugged her back. "There's gotta be a million people there, plus the press and Mew knows who else. What the hell are you going to do that he can't do himself?"

"I don't _care_," Misty snapped, whirling on her friend. "I'll think of something. Let me _go_!"

Brock's grip on her wrist tightened, eyes dating to the door. "Misty, shush," he warned, voice going quiet. "Just hang on, don't let my family hear you. _Saturday_, I promise. That's when all the students are allowed back. Any earlier and they could arrest you just for trespassing."

"But—"

"You can't do anything while you're arrested, Misty! That's what the word _means_!"

Misty knew he had a point, however much she hated it. Glaring furiously, she tore her hand from his and gritted her teeth until it bordered on painful. " _Fine_," she snapped, "but as_soon_ as we get there, we're going to help him, and I don't care _who _ sees us along the way."

Brock didn't sigh, or wince, or even hesitate. He nodded and met her eyes. "Saturday. I'll go too."

"And Suzie?" Adrenaline was flooding Misty's veins, but she knew they couldn't enter Stadium grounds again until Saturday morning at the earliest, though they'd planned not to return until Sunday afternoon. Certain people were bound to notice.

This time Brock _did _ hesitate, and flicked his gaze to the side quickly. "Er..."

Misty glared at him. "Er? What er? Did you _tell _ her already?" This was _not _ the time for new surprises.

Brock flushed, the red strangely bright against his tanned cheeks. "She, um. Er. Well you see, you came in so quickly that I didn't—"

"Um." Brock and Misty froze at the soft voice from the bed. "Hi, Misty. Sorry, we didn't think you'd...be up this early."

Suzie was blushing as she sat up beneath Brock's blankets, very obviously clad in nothing but the Pichu tank top that matched his boxers. She pulled the sheets up over her chest a little more modestly and smiled faintly at Misty, who had frozen to the floor in shock.

"Uh—" Her brain was locked in Surprise Mode, and she didn't know what to say. Oh Mew. Another person. Oh Mew. Not good.

"It's okay," Suzie told her with a smile. "Brock told me about him. You don't have to worry, I won't say anything."

Misty's eyes flew to Brock, and this time they were _narrow_. Brock scrambled to come up with something to say in his own defense.

"Well I uh. I might have, uh. Well she, um. She asked?"

This time Misty _did _ keep him in the kneecap, and felt a rush of pleasure when her foot connected.

**X**

The next two days were agony. Misty frantically checked every newspaper, radio station, and television show that even _mentioned_ Elementals or the Stadium, but a lot of them were taking advantage of the "scandal" to run documentaries on both, their audience heightened by the limited news flowing from the city. Flint rolled his eyes and continued to call it a hoax to get more funds. Misty was forced to chuckle dryly and agree. It was _maddening_.

There seemed to be some sort of stalemate, to the point where people were beginning to doubt there was an Elemental trapped at all, and tended to think more along the lines of Brock's father. Misty knew better though, and was terrified that every time someone claimed to have new footage, it would be of Ash struggling in some sort of cage. They only managed brief glimpses of him using his electricity, though, and most attributed it to "the Pikachu" that always seemed to remain at his side. The entire incident was still hot news, but the kind that would taper off after a week or so of nothing new. Misty prayed that was the case. She also prayed that, between the three of them, they would be able to find some way to help Ash out of his predicament.

Leaving early was easy. Flint and his wife were sad to see them go, but they understood the importance of upcoming tests. On the bus, Misty sat near the driver and strained her ears to listen to his radio, only to learn that— _finally_—the Elemental had "slipped away" and was now being pursued by a team led by Gary Oak, the man most familiar with the Stadium's underground labyrinth.

"Which means they can't find him," Brock told her reassuringly. "You know it does, Misty, they just don't want to lose face. He's all right. Eat something before you pass out."

Misty was only able to nibble on some chips he'd nabbed on their way out the door. Suzie, having spent the last couple days learning about Ash from _Misty's _perspective instead of Brock's, looked as anxious as she felt. The girl's talents lied in raising and nurturing Pokémon, though, not in Training them, and Misty didn't expect much help from her. Suzie didn't seem to mind. She hadn't Battled since her basic exams years before had forced her to; it simply wasn't something on the Breeding course track. Brock was doubling in both so he could help his family out at the Gym.

Misty wasn't even sure what they were going to do when they arrived, only that she wanted to be back there to help Ash, especially now that it sounded like his mother and uncle were out of the picture—at least temporarily. Temporary was all Gary Oak ever needed, though, and it frightened her. She had reached the point in which she didn't _care _ if helping Ash meant her expulsion from the school, not even if it _was _a mere two weeks from her final exams. He was more important than some papers and a Pokédex, and the Stadium wasn't the only school out there. It wouldn't mean the end of her life, even if, after all the work she'd put in, it might feel like it.

There was a line when they arrived. A long line. This was new, slightly intimidating, and the last thing any of them wanted to do was _wait _ in it; sitting immobile on the bus had been bad enough. After some inquiring, they were able to learn that, due to the Elemental events over the course of the past week, security had been beefed, and all students were required to check in upon arrival and participate in strict attendance roll for every class so that they would know right away if someone went missing. Misty cursed loudly enough to make a gaggle of younger teenage girls turn and stare at her. If Gary Oak hadn't created that rule specifically for her, she was positive he'd had her in mind when he'd proposed it.

"What now?" Suzie asked worriedly, and was obviously unfamiliar with Misty's antics while determined to do something because she stared in surprise when Misty replied:

"We sneak in."

Brock snorted and rolled his eyes. "Are you crazy, Misty? Look how many people there are! Where exactly do you suggest we sneak?"

It was freezing outside, and Misty stamped her foot as she turned to glare at her friend. "Like it matters? I am _not _ signing in up there, Brock; as soon as Gary sees my name on the list I'll have some crony or something following me around every time I leave my room. I need to find him first!"

The girls just in front of them were quiet, obviously listening, and Misty remembered not to use Ash's name just in time; it had been released in the article about him, and though most people thought it was ridiculous for an Elemental to have such a human name, anyone might recognize it right now.

"Hey, if you can come up with some plan, I'm all for it," Brock said irritably, crossing his arms. "It's the plan part I'm finding particularly difficult here."

Misty frowned and tried to lower her voice; a few of the girls were even turning to look at her, then quickly whispering something to their friends. It was both annoying and slightly nerve-wracking; she had no idea who Gary might have convinced to listen for him.

"There's got to be an open door somewhere," she hissed. "Either that or someone not paying attention to one, or one for private use only, or _something_. Rudi used some big fancy private ones sometimes after our dates—" There was a sudden small but furious explosion of giggling and beeping from the girls, and Misty turned to glare at them before continuing in a much lower tone. "He took me to private doors that you needed a keycard thing to get into. Maybe if I go to one of them and tell them I forgot my keycard, they'll recognize me and, I dunno, let me in."

Both Brock and Suzie were staring at her when she finished, the former with an incredulous look and the latter in disbelief. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Brock finally snorted.

"Yeah, didn't you like, break up with him or something?"

All three of them turned to look at the girl who'd suddenly addressed them. She was raising an eyebrow at Misty as if asking for proof of such an unbelievable thing, phone blinking in her hand. Finally, she turned to look at it, then burst out laughing and texted back, fingers flying over the number pads at a speed that made Misty's head spin.

"Who are you, and who the hell asked you in the first place?" she snapped. Her nerves were frayed and getting worse by the second; she needed to get in there to find Ash, and she needed to _now_.

The girls looked at each other in almost comical shock, their mouths open in perfect little O's. Misty set her hands on her hips and glared at them. They didn't take the hint.

"Is it true you're graduating _early_?" the one wearing an anorak asked. Not for the first time lately, Misty was glad she would be leaving some people behind fairly soon.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," she said icily. A couple of them rolled their eyes.

"Duh, it's _everyone's _ business."

"Yeah, everyone knows you're the one hogging up all of Rudi Trovita's attention lately."

Misty frowned. The way they said his name made it sound like he was some sort of celebrity—which he kind of was, but not _that _ big of one. She was about to tell them off for butting in where they were _obviously _ unwanted when one of them spoke to her without looking up from her phone.

"Oh _yeah_, May's pissed at you now. Can't you just let the guy go and move _on_?"

"What the _hell _ are you talking about?" Misty demanded, her annoyance and confusion at the idiot girls only fueling her bad mood.

"Duh, May _Haruka_?" one of them asked, and looked at her like she was an idiot for not knowing. "She's meeting him like, a million times a week."

"Yeah, and you just _busted _ one," another added, and they all looked at her like she had just failed at some game.

"She's pissed."

"Yeah, you always do this to her. Every time her and Rudi start really talking, someone calls him about _you _ and he's gotta leave again."

" _So _ annoying."

"Can't you just like, leave him alone?"

Misty's frown had faded from one of anger to one of genuine confusion, but before she could ask what the hell they were talking about— _again_—a loud voice cut over the crowd's and distracted her.

"Waterflower, Misty Waterflower! You're wanted at the front of the line!"

Misty turned to Brock in surprise, worry written all over her face. This wasn't right, no one should know she was there; they'd signed up to return _tomorrow_, not today, and while their return date had never been a big issue before, returning a day early was _supposed _ to give them extra time to help Ash without being noticed.

"Should I—?"

"Probably."

"But what if it's..."

"Then you should go see what he wants."

"Even if it's about..."

Brock nodded. " _Especially _ if it's about him. Go see what he wants, and then go look for him. We'll help as soon as we get inside."

Misty sighed. Dammit. _Dammit_. Would the surprises never end today?

She handed Suzie her backpack and made sure Brock wouldn't forget her suitcase if she didn't come back, then waved at the man calling out and scouring the line for her. A security guard. _Perfect_. He nodded and motioned for her to follow him up to the doors.

"Good luck finding Rudi!" one of the girls called after her, and they all giggled at the joke. Misty paused only long enough to give them a rather insulting gesture before hurrying after the man, careful not to slip on the icy sidewalk.

She was shocked to find Rudi waiting for her at the front of the line instead of Gary, and supposed the shock was evident on her face, because he only nodded, mouth set in a grim line, before slipping an arm around her shoulders and urging her inside. The staff manning the desk looked up at him as they passed, but he only waved them off and continued onward, and they didn't argue. For once Misty wished they had.

"Where are you—"

"In here."

He quickly ducked them into the first deserted room their came across, which happened to be a lush faculty room, then proceeded to kick the door closed behind them. Misty was left feeling extremely warm in her coat and uncomfortable in his presence, even when he released her.

"Rudi, I really don't think we should—"

"This isn't about us, Misty," he cut in curtly, and held out his hand. "Your Rapidash. Now. Quickly."

Misty stared at him in shock. "My… _What?_" At first she was convinced she'd heard wrong. You didn't just _demand _ someone's Pokémon like that; it was rude, against Stadium rules, and altogether _insulting_.

Rudi sighed. "Please, Misty, I don't have time to argue this. They're checking Pokéballs at the door, searching for anything not officially bred or purchased by the Stadium. Give me your Rapidash before they confiscate it and haul you off for questioning."

Surprised, Misty opened her coat and unclipped the warm 'ball from her 'belt; she'd left it behind so many times now that she found herself bringing it with her into the _bathroom_, she was so paranoid she'd leave need it unexpectedly again. Rudi took it from her fingers and minimized it to its smallest size, then tucked it into his interior jacket pocket. There was a small bulge there now, but Misty doubted anyone would stop and ask him about it.

He nodded to her, then turned and opened the door to leave. Surprised, Misty caught him by the sleeve. "Wait—"

He turned to regard her curiously, though his face wore the carefully blank expression she'd become familiar with from him lately. Sighing, she released his sleeve and met his eyes. "Thank you."

A single rust-red eyebrow rose to form an expression Misty didn't have a word for. She frowned at him, but he spoke before she could continue.

"You're very lucky May Haruka has her cell phone glued to her hand, or I might not have caught you in time. You shouldn't have to miss your graduation due to a simple Pokémon technicality, let alone one you had, for once, no control over."

Misty frowned at the passive slight, but chose to ignore it. He was helping her out. Again. Let him say what he wanted about it afterwards. "What will you do with her?" she asked instead. Rudi shook his head.

"Don't worry, I'll care for her until you can graduate and take her back again."

_That _ made Misty start in surprise. "Wait, _graduate_? I can't get her back for the Battles before then? Rudi, I need her! She's my sixth!"

Rudi continued to shake his head, his hand hovering almost possessively over his jacket pocket as if afraid she might make a lunge for it. Which she very well might, Misty acknowledged angrily. She couldn't lose a Pokémon as powerful as Haraia two weeks before she needed her most!

"You're a talented Trainer, Misty," Rudi told her calmly, ignoring her glare. "I'm sure you can make it through one Pokémon short. Bring her out before then and you'll be questioned, and unless you would rather be found in contempt for not answering or join Gary Oak's side claiming to have gotten her from an Elemental, I suggest you lie low for a while and let this pass well over your head. I've spoken with the headMasters about her. Your mysterious benefactor took her back from you just before your break, understand?"

Misty nodded numbly, and with that Rudi was gone, leaving her to stare at the open door worriedly. A Pokémon short. _Mew_, a _fully Evolved _ Pokémon short. As if that wasn't tricky enough, she doubted Ash would appreciate learning that she had just—

Misty stopped short. _Ash! _ She had to find him now, while she was inside and few others were; only the students who had made it past the front desk, all of them presumably "registered" with a 'belt full of legit Pokémon.

This might be the only chance she got. Heart thudding crazily, she slipped from the room and forced herself into as unhurried a walk as she could muster, only to stop short at the Trainers and Growlithe milling around the construction zone's perimeter. She did her best not to turn on her heel and quickly tried to think of somewhere else to go. Delia's. She could check Delia's. Then...Drake's? Then Lance's, maybe. And if he wasn't in any of those locations, well, she would come up with somewhere else.

He wasn't. By the time she'd knocked herself sore on Lance's door, Misty was trying very hard not to panic.

Her room. The sconce in the hallway outside her room had a trick panel above it. If Misty could shove it aside and find her way into the crawlspaces...she was sure she would have heard rumors about the Trainers invading the walls if they'd gone looking for Ash there. And he'd said he would said up some sort of sentry system, right? Maybe he had some of the smaller Pokémon lurking about aboveground who could tell her where he was, or at least let him know she was back early.

Hurrying upstairs, she was horrified to find electric lights glaring from a fully-plastered, fully-finished ceiling. They'd been busy while the students were away, and they'd gotten all the way to the _sixth floor_. Misty gritted her teeth angrily, her chest tightening in real fear now. She was going to _kill _ Gary. She was going to hang him by this own stupid Pokébelt and _murder _ him.

Now what? Thinking frantically, Misty tried to remember some other entrance to the walls. Arena Five? Security had closed it off weeks ago. Lance's office? Locked. Under the bed in Delia's room? Misty had no idea where the panel was, let alone how to find and open it; each seemed to have it's own unique trick, little safeguards against anyone unfamiliar with their secrets. Desperate now, Misty released a cry of frustration into the empty hall. What the hell was she supposed to _do_?

A dull thump from down the hall made her whip around in surprise, heart beating badly. It was coming from the end. Where her room was. Either that or the one across the hall, but she was fairly certain its occupant had graduated last spring.

Oh Mew. What if it was Gary? And what if it _wasn't_? And what if it was Ash? Or a Pokémon he'd sent there? Or another Ariados? Shivering, Misty forced her feet to approach the door and tried to convince herself she'd been imagining it. It had been soft, after all, but it had been directly following the noise she'd made, as if she'd startled something, and her room was _locked_, dammit, no one else should be in there.

And it was her room.

_Her room_.

It wasn't like she wouldn't have to go in there later anyway.

Shivering in what she _swore _ wasn't fear, just adrenaline and nerves and Mew knew what else, Misty dug the key out of her pocket and slowly inserted it into the lock, trying to make as little noise as possible. It turned easily, but the resounding click sounded like a gunshot to Misty's ears. She bit her lip and turned the knob anyway. This was ridiculous. There was nothing that could hurt her in this place; the Pokémon were all on Ash's side and therefore hers, and Gary couldn't do anything but attack her legally. She was being stupid, and it was just her _room_, for Mew's sake. Not like she hadn't slept in it a million times.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

A hand darted out immediately to close around her mouth, muffling the startled scream that tore from it, then another grabbed her by her wrist and dragged her inside. She was pushed roughly up against the back of the door until it slammed shut again against her back, and something brushed her hand as she heard the lock click closed. The light was off. She couldn't see anything. She was breathing heavily through her nose, and _terrified_ for all of about three seconds, which was the time it took to recognize the callused hand over her lips and the familiar mix of dusty electricity coming from the body directly in front of her, muddled almost unrecognizable by the sharp coppery scent of dried blood.

"_Mmm_," she said against the hand, but it only tightened over her mouth as Ash's voice rasped right beside her ear.

"_Don't_. Don't move, don't speak, don't do _anything_. Chances are someone followed you. Just—Just wait until they look, and then you can—"

He stopped short as footsteps sounded in the hallway. Misty froze and tried very hard to slow her breathing; Ash seemed to realize the hand over her mouth was making it louder, and quickly removed it. She could feel his stiff body pressed lightly against hers as he listened, head cocked beside her ear for the faintest hint that they were about to be discovered. Misty didn't dare move for fear of rustling against the door. If she wasn't so frightened she might have tried to completely restrain the urge to _breathe_.

The footsteps approached, then stopped outside the door, the light creeping in through the crack at the bottom wavering as shoes blocked it. The doorknob shook, and Misty's breath caught in her throat. It was locked, though, and whoever was on the outside seemed to think that was good enough, because the footsteps quickly receded again. Neither of them dared breathe again until at least a full minute had passed after they'd faded away completely, and then they both let it out in a whoosh.

The first thing Misty did was hug him tightly, but she quickly let him go again when he stiffened in her arms and tried to squirm out again. She recognized that reaction; he was hurt, and she wanted to see how badly.

"Ash—"

She was cut off by a pair of chapped lips against her own, almost hard enough to bruise. The back of her head struck the door in surprise, but Ash didn't stop, and Misty didn't try and make him. She kissed him back just as fiercely, hands coming up to tangle in the hair on either side of his head as she struggled to draw him in even closer, so much adrenaline draining from her system that she felt almost giddy with relief. Ash willingly obliged, his body pressing her flush to the wall now as she felt one of his hands around her jaw, the other curling around her neck to thread through the hair there. He tugged somewhat gently and Misty tipped her head back, and they both released a small moan at the sudden, better change in angle.

Misty wasn't exactly sure what was happening; she couldn't see anything in the dark, not even the gold from Ash's eyes, could only feel him as he pressed firmly against her and she returned the gesture, hands slipping from his hair to crawl up and down his back in an attempt to reassure herself that he was in one piece. He didn't protest, didn't even shy away from her fingers, only tried to step even closer to her until she was completely immobilized by his body and the door.

"You're okay," she tried to tell him, but he was too busy exploring the contours of her mouth and jaw with his own that it came out as more of an unintelligible mumble. Ash seemed to understand it, though, because he grunted.

"You're back," he said against the underside of her jaw, and then he was kissing her again and the hard door was beginning to hurt Misty's back, so she slid her hands up his sides under his jacket and tried to tug back on it to urge him backwards. Instead he momentarily released her to slip it off. Misty forgot her discomfort and decided this was immensely preferable anyway, and when Ash's inexperienced hands hesitated at the hem of her coat she quickly struggled out of it. He pulled away only long enough for it to fall to the floor.

"I can't see you," Misty protested breathlessly, heart pounding in her in the wake of Ash's touch. Ash's gruff voice came from her shoulder as he urged her shirt collar aside to explore the skin there with his lips.

"I can see you."

"But I want to see—"

"They'll notice," Ash reminded her, and Misty made a frustrated sound at the knowledge that he was right. Then she gasped as his teeth closed over a particularly sensitive area between her neck and her shoulder and he stopped, clearly worried he'd done something wrong. Misty dug her nails into his sides, having just worked them beneath the hem of his shirt, and now it was _his _ turn to gasp.

"Again," she demanded, and it only took Ash a moment to work through the meaning of her words before he repeated the action, this time soothing the sting of the bite with his tongue. Instinct, Misty had to remind herself. Ash was acting on instinct—he'd never done this before, his instincts had always just happened to be particularly _good_. So was the soft sound he made when she raked her nails up over the bottom of his ribs. Misty smoothed the skin with her fingertips before doing it again.

" _Raikou_," he swore, and Misty took this opportunity to push him gently backwards.

"Bed," she murmured, and could feel Ash looking at her in surprise.

"What?"

"The door's hard, Ash."

"...Right. Sorry."

There was something on it, but Ash only swept it to the floor. Then he had taken hold of her hand and was leading her to it as if she didn't already know the way. Grinning, Misty quickly caught up to him and flopped down on her back, pulling a surprised Ash down on top of her. He stiffened, draped sideways over her stomach, before she laughed at him and he quickly relaxed again, pushing himself up on either side of her to rearrange himself more comfortably. Misty drifted a hand up his chest to feel out his movements and then hooked her fingers in the top of his shirt and tugged him down for a gentle kiss. It wasn't long before it had deepened into something more, and then Misty was tugging up at the bottom hem of his shirt, and he was sucking in a breath as her fingers grazed his abdomen, pulling suddenly away. Misty stopped.

"Ash—?"

"No." Before she knew it he was kissing her again, something hungry and desperate fueling his actions. This time it was Misty who pulled back, though it was quite some time before she could gather her bearings enough to do so.

"Ash, what's—"

"I love you," he blurted breathlessly, then pressed his forehead to her own and sighed heavily. "I love you," he repeated more slowly, and she felt him brush his lips over hers. "I love you, and I don't want you to leave like that again."

It took Misty a moment to work her voice past the lump in her throat, her arms snaking around his back to squeeze him tightly. He winced, but didn't pull away. Misty only loosened her grip a little.

"I'm not going anywhere, Ash. I promise."

This time when he kissed her she returned it just as desperately, and when his hand found its way under her shirt she arched in encouragement for it to continue, and when Misty finally managed to get him out of his shirt and ran her hands over the flawed skin of his chest he murmured things she didn't need to be intelligible, skin trembling at her touch. He was so sensitive. Misty wasn't nearly as new at this as Ash was, but she found herself reacting to his hesitant, curious fingers in much the same way.

She felt vaguely self-conscious, aware that Ash could see her better than she could him, restricted as she was to mere tactile sensation and the faint outline of skin whenever he moved, but she was hardly about to complain. Ash was okay and she was with him again, and that was all that really mattered to her until a loud rapping at her door some time later jolted her from a quiet half-sleep she hadn't realized she'd slipped into.

**X**

Rudi was sure she was here. She wasn't with Brock and she hadn't been seen anywhere else, and she had nowhere else to _go_. Pounding his fist against the door once more, he finally stopped and sighed, reaching into his pocket for one of the master keys the headMasters had gifted him with. This was not one of the things he would let her avoid him for, and if she wasn't there, well then, he'd leave the card where she would find it and return to the eight dozen pressing things he'd been putting off for her today.

The heavy door clicked open and he stepped inside only far enough to flip on the light, rolling his eyes at the immediate shuffle from the bed. "Come on, Misty, it's barely eight o'clock, I know you're not asleep yet—"

He stopped, eyes flashing. Misty had sat up quickly and was now pulling up her sheets to hide herself, and beside her a certain black-haired Elemental was scrambling to pull on a pair of jeans backwards.

"Rudi! This isn't—ah—what it looks like, really!"

Rudi felt his anger flare at her words, then drain from him completely as he watched the pair fumble about. He tried to bring it back, to yell at them for being so careless, so stupid, so _infuriatingly _ obvious, but he couldn't seem to grab hold of it again. "So this is how it is," he said instead, calmly. Ash paused to look back over his shoulder at him, eyes an eerie deep, unbroken black, and Misty's mouth set in what Rudi now recognized to be a sort of dimly muted fury.

"What the hell are you doing barging into my room like that? Where did you get a key? What gives you the right to just—"

"Don't bother, Misty," he interrupted coldly. He could hear the words coming from his mouth, but he was hardly aware of them. She'd slept with him. He wasn't even fully _human_, and she'd slept with him. He wasn't sure this was all the Elemental's fault anymore, so much as a grave error in judgment on Misty's part. A continuous error. A flaw in her character, so different from the innocent island girl he remembered from his youth. Too reckless. Self-destructive. _Oblivious_.

They'd both stopped moving now, and were watching him from their respective positions on the bed: Misty halfway to the floor, ready to beat him to the ground naked if she had to, and the Elemental halfway into a pair of upside-down pants, bent crookedly over the far side of the mattress. Rudi hoped every one of the burns, scrapes, bruises, and cuts visible on his back hurt like hell.

"How long?" If she'd been going behind his back like this for the last few months, he was going to turn on his heel and leave them like this right now.

Misty looked momentarily surprised. "Just—Just—" She stopped herself suddenly and glared. "What the hell business is it of _yours_? We're _not _ dating, Rudi, we've been through this. We're not—"

"Just the once, then," he interrupted, and her mouth snapped shut as a light blush flashed across her cheeks. Rudi pulled the card from his pocket and set it on the desk beside him, then had a second thought and pulled the minimized Pokéball out as well, tossing it to Ash. The boy snatched it from the air and blinked at it in confusion, then snapped his head up again warily. Rudi snorted dryly. "Yes, that's your precious Rapidash," he confirmed. "Make sure it isn't seen." He'd rather give it back to its filthy owner than have to find some way to exercise and feed it in private on his own.

"Rudi, you're—"

"Finished here," he finished for her, and brought his hand down on the doorknob again to leave. He paused, though, before stepping outside again, and turned to regard the girl once more. Something heavy and painful tugged at his chest, but he quickly shoved it aside again. He had too many things to do today to bother sorting through the myriad of emotions he was sure were clawing to get out. His eyes caught on the Elemental's easily.

"You should leave now, while you have the chance."

"I'm not going anywhere!" he responded furiously. "You can tell Gary to shove it up his—"

"I meant this room," Rudi interrupted dryly, then tapped the tips of his fingers against the card he'd placed on Misty's desk. "This is your registration card, since I happened to prevent you from receiving one earlier. Without it you're not allowed on Stadium grounds at any time, whether someone recognizes you or not. Do you understand?"

Misty nodded, worry beginning to creep into her features at his emotionless tone, he was sure. Rudi ignored it. "Good. This is the last time I go behind the headMasters' backs to pull strings for you, Misty. The next time you get yourself caught doing something stupid for him, you're on your own."

He didn't know if he meant that, he realized a second after he'd pulled the door shut behind him, but he certainly hoped so. He loved her, so much it would hurt if he allowed it to, but the new rules had been laid down for her protection as well as everyone else's, and he couldn't keep going against them or she wouldn't _learn_. Oak had used the student body's absence to seal off most of the well-used passages out of the depths of the Stadium, making it nearly impossible for the Elemental to sneak freely back and forth as he'd done before. Trapping him underground had served it's temporary purposes; keep him occupied so that work could be done above, and injure him so that he couldn't fight back quite as powerfully.

It was only a matter of time, really, he mused to himself, feet carrying him to the headMasters' office on their own as he thought. He wasn't sure why the Elemental didn't just leave now, while he still had the chance, and then make plans to meet with Misty again later, if they were as involved with one another as they'd just implied. At the rate they were going, he was going to get himself killed and she was going to get herself expelled, and for once Rudi wasn't going to be able to save her. He briefly considered whether or not he wanted to. Perhaps being expelled after ten years of study was the jolt Misty needed in order to snap back to behind herself again. And maybe, just maybe, that's would he would have to let happen.

Gary Oak's plans were flawless. Rudi almost felt sorry for Misty and he precious Elemental lover. Almost.

**X**


	18. The Final Threshold

**Phantom**

**Act iv Stage ii**

_The Final Threshold_

_For a moment after Rudi's departure, there was only a tense silence_.

Then a shuffle from Misty's side made her turn. Ash was kicking his jeans off again so that he could turn them over and pull them on correctly, making it up to his knees before remembering the boxers currently residing on the floor. He paused again, his cheeks lightly pink as he glared at them. Misty would have found his embarrassment cute if she wasn't currently feeling the same. Her anger at Rudi was quickly fading in light of her current predicament. It wasn't that she _regretted_ sleeping with Ash, it was that the entire thing had happened so quickly that neither of them had really had a chance to think about it, and now they were both left with the aftermath. Which wasn't so bad either, really, except for the fact that she wasn't sure what to say to him when he was so obviously embarrassed about it.

"I should go."

Misty watched as he snatched his boxers up from the floor and slipped into them before pulling on his jeans. This was the first time she'd seen him without a shirt on in the light, and she winced at the sight. He was pale, that much she'd already known, and toned, hard and wiry, but what drew her attention were the numerous wounds mottling his skin over old scars. There was a bad burn on his shoulder, what looked like a Houndoom's bitemark on his side, and numerous scrapes and bruises marring the rest of his back. She sat back against the headboard with her comforter pulled tight to her chest and frowned. "Where?"

Ash shrugged, his eyes scouring the floor for his shirt. "I don't know. But I can't be caught here."

"Rudi won't send anyone. He wouldn't."

"Still."

It was in the bed beside Misty. Ash's blush deepened as he leaned over the bed for it, and refused to looked at Misty when she caught his arm.

"Stay."

He didn't reply for a moment, or even try to move. It was obvious to Misty that he _wanted_ to stay, but she was also well aware of his paranoia, and she didn't want to instigate it by trapping him aboveground, if he wasn't already. Ash glanced at her.

"If I stay, I might get caught here. You only have two weeks left, Misty, you shouldn't risk it by—"

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, Ash," Misty interrupted tersely, her grip tightening on his arm. "You're worth the risk. Now stay; you're hurt."

Ash sighed heavily. He looked tired; his eyes were black, which meant he was drained of electricity, and that left his body exhausted as well, not to mention the dark circles under his eyes and the slight sluggishness to his normally quick movements. "I shouldn't," he finally told her. Misty started a little when she realized he was shaking. "I really shouldn't, but...Mew, Misty, I don't know where else to go."

Misty's stomach turned over at how scared he must have been, to be on the run like that with nowhere to turn in a building full of people and Pokémon hunting him down like an animal. She tugged on his arm, and he let her pull him back up onto the bed, where he curled up next to her on top of the blankets, an arm sliding around her waist. Misty scootched down in the bed until she could hug him, and after a moment he hugged her back, his arms just as tight around her as hers were around him. Misty didn't say anything when he buried his head in her shoulder and clung. She couldn't imagine what the last week had been like for him, and had to stop every time she tried when her chest constricted painfully. Instead she just clung back, a hand stroking gently through his hair in an attempt to soothe them both. It felt like all of the adrenaline from before was back in her system again, as she remembered just how close she'd come to losing him.

"I don't want to put you in any danger," Ash said softly after a few moments of silence, "but I didn't know where else to go. They're blocking off all the routes underground, and they've got so many people down there now that it's not worth sneaking anyway. They're setting up explosives, Misty. They're going to try and collapse it all while the students and faculty are gone for Christmas break."

Misty's heart thudded in her chest as she thought of all the casualties that would result in. "And the Pokémon?"

"Most of them are gone," Ash told her dully. "The ones that didn't want to escape are staying to fight. They know what's going to happen. Some of them came with me, just in case, but I don't want to send them out to fight. Gary's not fighting fair. He's been using _guns_."

Misty felt her fury rise at that, her grip tightening around Ash. "And Pikachu?"

"Hiding somewhere else," Ash explained. "This way if one of us gets caught, the other's still free to help."

"But wouldn't you stand a better chance together?"

Ash snorted wryly. "Right now, neither of us would stand much of a chance at all."

Misty squeezed him tightly before she remembered his wounds and loosened her arms again, though her chest still hurt as much as before. "You need someone to look at you, Ash." Without Delia around, though, she wasn't sure who. Ash only sighed and shifted against her.

"It's too dangerous. I just need to rest, Misty, I'll be fine after that."

Misty wasn't convinced. "You need more than just sleep, you need—"

"And where am I going to get it?" Ash interrupted. "It's fine. Nothing's permanent. I was careful. I just...I need sleep, that's all."

Misty stopped pressing when she caught the slightly pleading note to his tone. He wanted to rest and he was trying to ask for her permission in typical Ash fashion, which was to say he didn't really want to ask for it at all. Misty sighed and resumed stroking his hair again, the only part she was sure she could touch without making him wince. "Sleep here, then. I'm not leaving."

Ash sighed in relief, and rearranged his head on her shoulder as he let his eyes close. "I know. I don't want to either."

He was out within minutes, and exhausted enough not to wake at the soft knock on Misty's door, or Misty shuffling about as she slipped back into her clothes and opened it. Brock sighed in very audible relief on the other side.

"Mew, we couldn't find you anywhere, we thought maybe you—"

Misty shushed him and pointed at the bed, where Ash was curled up with his back to them. Brock's eyes widened and he nodded, but said nothing. Beside him Suzie stretched to peer over his shoulder, her eyes widening as well. "Is that—"

Misty shushed her too, and she clapped a hand over her mouth and nodded quickly. Sighing, Misty dragged the suitcases they'd brought back into her room. She was beginning to feel tired as well, and it was only supper time. She hadn't really thought about how little she'd been sleeping lately, or eating, for that matter. All she'd thought about for the last few days was Ash, and now that he was here with her again, her body was struggling to catch back up. Brock was watching, and gestured for her to join him outside when she'd sufficiently gathered all of her things again. Misty closed the door behind her. She hadn't forgotten Ash's fear of sleeping aboveground, and now that he actually was she wanted to be careful not to wake him.

"Is he all right?"

The question actually came from Suzie, not Brock, and Misty looked at her as she set her palms against the door and leaned back against them with a sigh. She nodded. "Yeah."

Brock ran a hand through his hair, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling with relief. "Oh, thank Mew. They've implemented all these new security measures, Mist, you need an ID card to get _anywhere_, and no Pokémon's allowed to be treated unless it's registered. They've made it damn near impossible for him or Pikachu to find anywhere to go."

Misty nodded again. Rudi's words from before had led her to believe something like that had happened, or Ash wouldn't have been reduced to hiding in her room in the first place. Brock looked at her nervously. "Mew, Misty. What are we going to do?"

Misty didn't know how to answer that. She wasn't sure herself. The extent of her plan had been to find Ash and make sure he was all right; beyond that she was lost, and she'd made no contingencies for _nearly_ all right, but still subject to injury.

"I'll stay with him tonight," she told Brock, meeting his eyes. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't protest. "Tomorrow we can figure out what to do. But I don't want to wake him up, and he knows more about what happened while we were gone than we do."

Brock nodded and shared a glance with Suzie. "Is he hurt really bad?"

"It looks like he was attacked by Pokémon." The Breeders winced. Misty didn't, but her mouth was set in a grim line. People weren't equipped to deal with that kind of physical damage like Pokémon were, though she suspected that, with Pokémon blood in him, Ash was at least a little more resilient than most.

"We'll bring him some things," Suzie suggested. "Whatever we can spare."

"Yeah, they've been stocking us up for exams," Brock agreed. "And you know Gary'll have his eye on your supplies. Save them. We can do this much, at least."

Misty thanked them, and the trio split up before one of the roaming guards could catch them talking together. Mew, it felt like they were in some enemy war camp all of a sudden, and Misty was harboring the rebel. She sighed as she carefully locked the door and changed into a pair of freezing pajamas, all of her bags cold from sitting outside with Brock and Suzie for over an hour. Ash woke up a little when she slid into the bed next to him, but only enough to crawl under the covers with her, asleep again as soon as his head hit the pillow. Misty was worried about him. She hadn't seen him immediately after Gary had drained him with those handcuffs, but she imagined if he was anything as exhausted then as he was now, he must have been on the verge of collapse. She'd never seen him asleep before, save that one time beneath the Stadium. He wasn't the type to let himself fall unconscious with people around, no matter how much he trusted them.

Misty had never really _hated_ anyone before, but if Gary Oak were here right now she knew she wouldn't hesitate to punch the man in the face. Repeatedly. Ash was one of the sweetest men she knew, and had done nothing to deserve this rabid animal treatment Gary was giving him.

She was tired of ducking her head and feigning awe and respect to the licensed Trainers who were trying to kill Ash. Tomorrow she was determined to say something to them, and her License be damned if she lost it.

**X**

Ash awoke before Misty did the next morning. Without the myriad of variously nocturnal Pokémon around him he wasn't sure what time it was, until he remembered Misty had a clock and lifted his head to peer at it from over her sleeping form. Five in the morning. Much too early for normal people to be up, but after the first full night's rest he'd received in days, his body was ready to go again. He lifted a hand in front of his face and flexed his fingers, then carefully allowed the ever-present electricity in them to spark loose. He made a light fist. Not nearly fully charged yet, after the last week's constant struggle, but getting there. This wasn't like the last time he'd been drained almost completely, no matter what it felt like. He'd be all right.

Careful not to disturb the girl beside him, he slipped from her bed and forced himself to his aching feet beside it before allowing a small glance back at her again. Zapdos, he'd been so scared he wouldn't be here for her when she came back. If Gary let her come back. He wasn't a fool; he knew his mother had struggled to raise him without his father around, had missed the man every time she met Ash's eyes and saw him in them. He hadn't wanted to do that to Misty. Kid or not, he hadn't wanted to put her through the loneliness his mother had experienced in his father's careless absence.

Though it seemed he had a little of his father in him after all, he realized with a blush. He hadn't been thinking last night. He'd been impulsive, brash, desperate, scared, and relieved all at the same time, and...well. Now more than ever wasn't the time for that kind of thing. It had probably been the best experience of his odd attempt at a life thus far, but...he wasn't his father. He didn't want to _be_ his father. He had patience. He had intelligence. He could _wait_.

Living life at the barrel of Gary's gun, however, had not exactly developed any kind of patience as far as his own life was concerned, and he was finding it very hard not to take Misty up in his arms again while he still had the chance, and kiss her until she gasped in that same way she had last night. The thought made something pleasantly heavy form again in his gut. He knew there was no guarantee he would still be around to do it tomorrow. He _knew_ that, and it ate at his nerves more than anything ever had before, but he was _determined_ to live through this.

He wanted a _real_ life. With her. Outside of here. His ancestors were dead and gone and their legacies were currently being sold by those damned Trainers for mere fractions of what the books were probably worth, but _to hell with it_. He'd done what he was supposed to for nearly twenty-three years now. He'd kept the lake in line, he'd cared for the Pokémon, he'd watched over the Trainees. And he'd nearly given his life for it, just like every one of them had, save Drake who had never wanted the responsibility anyway. He was _done_ with it. His blood could find a legacy somewhere else, because it was sure to stop with him if he tried to stay.

His shirt was ripped and stained and dirty, to the point where even Ash frowned at the thought of pulling it on. He eyed Misty's bags on the floor and dimly recalled hearing voices just before she'd joined him in bed, and thanked Mew they hadn't been anyone malicious. He'd been so exhausted last night he hadn't even been bothered by his usual aboveground nightmares, and wasn't sure if it was due to his actual fatigue or to Misty's presence. He hoped it was Misty's presence, because he was fairly certain he'd be spending a hell of a lot more nights with her above the surface in the near future.

Assuming there was a near future, of course. Misty had somehow become the one constant in his life, instead of the one uncertainty; he'd realized that while he was hurt and running in that dark maze of tunnels. He'd convinced himself that if he could just get out, she'd be there. If he couldn't get out, he'd let her down.

And he'd gotten out. And she'd been there. And even if he had shown his relief in a bit of an...unconventional way, he was sure she'd be there for him later too.

He just didn't want her to wreck her life for him in the process.

Leaving Misty to wake up alone was a bad idea, he knew, so he found her Pokébelt and quietly called out Totodile so that she wouldn't panic. He would be right back, but there was someone he needed to talk to, whether the man wanted to or not. He gently set the young Pokémon down on the bed beside her with instructions before scrunching up his nose and pulling on his shirt anyway, then his jacket and shoes. He winced when he reached up to crawl through the trick panel in her ceiling, his muscles strained and sore in places he hadn't known they could be.

Gary had never known about any of his entrances into private bedrooms, but he was still relieved to find the majority of them unblocked; the man had been figuring out a lot of things lately that he'd never known before, and there was no guarantee that anyplace was still safe. This particular door was hidden behind the miniature statue of a charging Tauros in one of the Stadium's most luxurious suites. Ash climbed into the dark room silently, replaced the panel in the wall behind him quietly, and turned just in time to be blinded by a brilliant flash of red light. An instant later something large tackled him to the floor with a feline yowl.

Ash scrambled to protect himself from the Persian's sharp claws as the room lights suddenly flared to life. "Call her off, Rudi!" he demanded loudly, his arms stinging. He could Paralyze the cat easily, he knew, but he didn't want to; he hadn't come here looking for a fight.

"You sneak into my rooms and then make demands when you're caught?" Rudi scoffed from somewhere at the end of the room. "Maybe Persian will be able to knock some sense into that empty head of yours! Slash, now!"

The Pokémon raised her paw, and Ash didn't bother catching it. Instead he went for her whiskers; the three largest ones jutting out from either side of her head. As soon as he had a firm grip the large cat stilled. Ash was left panting heavily, her weight pressing on all of his bruises and his cheek stinging where a claw had caught it. He glared at Rudi from around her flank. "She won't Attack me again like this. Call her off."

Rudi must have been aware of the docile nature of Persians gripped by their whiskers, because he quickly held up a Pokéball and let her disappear back inside of it with a frown. Ash sat up and wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, then looked at it. Dammit. He knew Misty would want to know where he got it later.

"Wipe that on the carpet and I'll clean it with your face," Rudi spoke up coldly. Ash glared at him, but wiped his hand on his shirt instead, careful to keep it where Rudi could see. He didn't want a fight, and he definitely didn't want another Gary.

"I came here to talk to you."

"Did you." To Ash's surprise, Rudi turned his back on him and headed into the kitchen. Ash had no choice but to push himself to his feet and follow, wary of Rudi's actions. Gary would have never shown his back with Ash around..

"Yes, I did," he said clearly from the doorway. Rudi didn't so much as glance at him from over his shoulder. He was hunched over the counter measuring out what smelled like coffee grounds.

"About what."

Ash crossed his arching arms over his chest. He hadn't been sure how Rudi would react to his sudden appearance, but this wasn't it. "About Gary," he finally told him.

That made Rudi pause, and he turned enough so that he could look at Ash with a frown. "Oak?"

"Oak."

"Not Misty?"

This time Ash paused. "...Misty?"

Rudi's frown deepened, and he turned back to his task. "Nevermind. What do you want with Oak. You should know I have no control over him, or he'd have backed off of Misty when I first ordered it months ago."

"Misty can take care of herself," Ash reminded him with a frown. The man always seemed to be going out of his way to help her when she didn't need it, and Ash was growing more and more to understand Misty's tantrums whenever his good deeds ended up as much a hindrance as a help. "I'm here about your plans for those tunnels belowground," he continued. "I know you're funding the whole thing—"

"Ah," Rudi interrupted, in a tone which suggested he understood where Ash was going. He moved to put some water on the stove before leaning against the counter beside it and crossing his arms over his robed chest. "So you're here about my plans to collapse them."

Ready to launch into an argument about Pokémon safety and the Stadium's unstable foundations, instead Ash hesitated at Rudi's words. "_Your_ plans?"

Rudi cocked an eyebrow. "Gary Oak is after _you_. He thinks in the short-term. Useless for anything but brute force, which I can see he's actually rather skilled at." His eyes roved quickly up and down Ash's battle-worn clothing and Ash glared.

"Call them off, Rudi," he said through gritted teeth. "This isn't about me or you or Gary or Misty. This is about the dozens of Pokémon you're hurting and killing and orphaning. _Call them off_."

Rudi frowned. "I'm not a monster, you know. I'm just trying to clear the area out before we collapse the tunnels. Or would you rather I fired all of Oak's men and let the walls cave in on the Pokémon left behind?"

"Don't be stupid," Ash fumed, his hands curling into fists against his arms. "I know you're only doing it to catch me. Well I'm _here_, and there's no more reason for all those Trainers to be _there_. You _know_ it. Call them _off_."

Rudi snorted softly, shifting so that he could rearrange his weight against the countertop. "Are you asking me to let Oak know where you're staying?"

"_No_, I—"

"Because I can, you know," Rudi continued in a drawl. "I considered it when he showed up to our meeting last night. I considered it when I saw you crawl out of that hole in the wall just now. You do know how to use a real door, don't you? There's a small brass knob you can turn that will, nine times out of ten, open it for you."

Ash tried very hard to keep a handle on his temper. He knew Rudi could turn him in at any moment, but he also knew a lot of other things about Rudi, courtesy of Misty, who probably knew him better than anyone else. It was obvious Rudi hated him, but for reasons that simultaneously stayed his hand against Ash. He was a good man. Ash was actually guilty he was keeping Misty away from him, but...selfish or not, she was the first person he'd ever really wanted just to himself.

"I thought you'd be asleep," he replied after a moment. "I wasn't trying to sneak in and scare you."

Again, that snort. "I had a hard time sleeping last night, actually, courtesy of yours truly."

Ash frowned. He hadn't meant for Rudi to see them like that. He hadn't meant to _be_ like that. It was the biggest mistake his father had made, and here he was repeating it. "I wasn't thinking," he finally admitted.

"Ah," Rudi said as he shifted again, "I see. So you unthinkingly _happened_ to stumble your way into her bed, and unthinkingly _happened_ to lose all of your clothes in the process, and unthinkingly _happened_ to find your way between her legs—"

"It wasn't like that!" Ash interrupted furiously. He was making it sound like this was some brief sordid love affair between them, instead of the complicated reality it really was. Like Ash would have done that with _anyone_ else. Like he'd ever even been _tempted_ to.

"Oh really," Rudi replied sharply, his own temper rising. "And how was it, then, Elemental? How was she? _Satisfying_ enough? How did she like you? Did the two of you—"

In a flash Ash was across the room with his hand in the collar of Rudi's robe, and instead of freezing in fright Rudi had his forearm against Ash's neck and was shoving at him painfully. Ash's free hand closed around it, sparks flying of their own accord, and Rudi's free hand caught in the hair above Ash's forehead as he gripped a handful and tried to shove him backwards.

"Don't make me call out my Ursaring, Elemental," he gasped, Ash's hand tight beneath his throat. "He's not nearly so easily tamed."

"I have a childless Charizard who wouldn't mind trying," Ash growled back, all the tension that had risen up between them hitting him full-force now. "Stop trying to sabotage me and Misty."

"You sabotaged us first."

"I didn't do anything. She _chose_ me."

"Over _me_. Don't you find that _odd_?"

Ash's grip tightened, and he shoved aside the uneasiness that always threatened swelled up in him on this subject. He knew better now; it was useless to feel that way. "Misty can make her own decisions. _Let her_."

"They're obviously a bit flawed if she's chosen a half-human sparkplug over a childhood friend," Rudi replied tersely, his arm pressing harder against Ash's throat. "Let me go, Elemental."

Ash complied slowly, every loosening muscle a forced, conscious effort. Rudi released him as well, his eyes never leaving Ash's, both of them tense as they attempted to stare the other down. The pot on the stove began to whistle suddenly, the sound growing louder as they each hesitated in their own silence. But then Rudi turned to fetch it, and Ash took a few steps backwards to give them both some room, and nothing more was said until the water was soaking through the grounds into his cup.

"I really didn't come here to fight," Ash told him stubbornly. He was quickly discovering that Rudi had a knack for the kind of conversation that sounded genial enough, but really got under your skin.

Rudi sighed heavily, his shoulders slouching a little as he leaned over his hands on the counter. "And I didn't mean to instigate one," he said tonelessly.

"Then why won't you stop your men?" Ash asked as evenly as he could. "You're killing innocent Pokémon. You'll kill more if you collapse those tunnels, and you may bring the Stadium and a good portion of the city down with them."

Rudi set his filter in the sink and turned to regard Ash tiredly, his eyes without any hint of the fury that had occupied them moments before. Ash watched him warily. He looked exhausted, despite their struggle, and it was unexpected. The only other movement from him, however, was another shrug. "It's out of my hands now, Ash. My struggle with you ended a long time ago, even if I tried to pretend it didn't. Oak's got control of things now."

His words made a knot of worry curl in Ash's gut. "What do you mean, he's in control?" he asked tightly, his voice belying some of his growing fear. "You're backing everything. You're the patron. Without your money he can't—"

"It's all been bought and paid for," Rudi replied through a sigh, his eyes on the table to Ash's right. "There's nothing more I can do."

"But it's _your money_," Ash protested. This was his last resort; if Rudi couldn't get rid of those Trainers, Ash didn't know who else to ask. His uncle was gone and his mother was gone and even _Lance_ was gone, and even swamped in Misty's comfort as he was, he'd never felt so alone.

"Not anymore, it isn't," Rudi replied with a frown. "Perhaps Oak is smarter than I gave him credit for. I don't simply pay his bills; he insisted on creating a joint account with the funds, and that account is now empty."

"You've checked?"

"Last night." Rudi picked up his coffee cup and took a small, cautious sip. "I would have pulled out then; I've wasted more than enough of my inheritance on this money pit. But he's already in full legal possession of the entire budget set aside for the project."

Ash's heart raced. "Then what do you suggest I do?" he asked, at a loss and frightened now that he knew Gary had the money to send out even _more_ men if he wanted to. His friends were dying while he tucked his tail between his legs and hid up here with Pikachu. The majority of him wanted to find another way back down there, to help the Pokémon who'd raised him as one of their own, but a small part also knew that there was a good chance he wouldn't return from a venture like that alive, and he couldn't leave Misty. Wouldn't leave Misty. Didn't _want_ to leave Misty. This wasn't the first losing battle he'd insisted on fighting, but it was the first he'd been forced to rethink for fear of his own life. That had never mattered before; the Stadium had been his family's home for centuries, and when it fell then so would he, but now...now he wasn't so sure.

Rudi looked up at him from over his steaming mug, then snorted, amused, and chuckled wryly as he shook his head. He set his cup aside again with a tired grin. "I would _suggest_, Ash, that you get out while you can, before you _can't_. You, Misty, and Brock are only three people, against Oak's personal _army_. Now I'm sure you know I don't like you, yet here I am giving you honest advice: _Leave_. You don't even want to know what Oak has in store for you if you don't."

**X**

Misty was furious when Ash climbed back into her room through her ceiling a full hour after she'd woken up, and had to resist the urge to throttle him the moment his feet touched the floor. He only sighed tiredly as she sputtered to come up with a suitable insult. "Totodile was supposed to—"

"I don't _speak_ Totodile, Ash!" she snapped.

"Then I'll have to _teach_ you, Misty," he snapped back, and she paused, surprised. Ash ran a hand through his hair and cursed softly to himself. "I'm sorry, I'm still tired. And a little stressed. I only stepped out for like a minute—"

"An _hour_—" Misty corrected furiously.

"—and now I'm _back_, and I hurt, and I just want to lie down again, okay?"

Misty nodded her consent, but eyed him warily as he shrugged off his jacket and shoes and collapsed on top of the comforter. She hadn't missed the fresh cut on his cheek. "I swear to Mew, Ash, if you went out to track down Gary I'll give Totodile orders to bite your head off _myself_."

Said Pokémon had crawled up to take Pikachu's usual position on his chest, and the detail wasn't lost to either of them. Ash sighed as he smoothed his hand over the reptile's rough skin. "I didn't. I went to see if I could stop them from collapsing the underground."

That caught Misty's attention, and helped to dissipate some of the anger and fear she'd felt at waking up without knowing where he'd gone. She sank down onto the bed beside him, alternating between watching his hands and meeting his eyes. "And?"

He sighed again. "I can't. Misty, I can't let Gary do that. It's just—I can't—" He huffed in exasperation. "He thinks he's doing it to get back at me. He thinks by doing it'll he'll have _won_, since it's been where my family's lived since the War. But those tunnels are connected to the _entire city_, and the Stadium's foundation is rotting away as it is. He's going to end up destroying the entire _building_, and probably everything on this block."

Misty frowned, her expression a mixture of worry and concern. "Why won't he listen to reason?"

"Because he doesn't _have_ any," Ash said disgustedly. "I'll find Pikachu later and then send someone down to make sure the Pokémon know to clear out. Can you spread a rumor to the students and Masters, in case any of them were planning to stay here over break?"

Misty nodded, her head light at the realistic prospect that Gary Oak was actually willing to bring down the entire Stadium just to prove something to Ash, who he had to know wouldn't allow himself to be caught in it. "What else can we do in the meantime?"

Ash peeked out at her from under the arm he'd draped over his eyes. "We? You should _study_."

Misty frowned. "There's only one week of classes left—"

"Yeah, your _final_ week."

"—and most of them are practical anyway—"

"Then care for your Pokémon."

"—and I don't _care_ if I _fail_," Misty finished in a huff, glaring at Ash now. Ash met her gaze for a moment before sitting up and, to her surprise, leaning in to press a light kiss to her lips.

"I do." He blushed and pulled away just far enough to meet her eyes, his own filled with concern, mostly black but with small sparks of gold and swirls of brown fading in and out of it. "You spent the last ten years of your life here, Misty. Training is all you know. Get your License, make that your top priority, and then we can figure out the rest."

Misty frowned, but not in irritation this time. "You know I don't care about that nearly as much anymore, Ash."

"Well you should. Even I know we won't be able to do anything after you graduate without it."

It surprised her to learn that Ash was thinking long-term, and she was sure her expression showed it because Ash's cheeks darkened as he looked at her. "...Well it is."

He yelped when she unexpectedly tackled him to the bed, her lips finding his even amongst the chaotic flailing limbs and snarling Totodile trapped between them.

"Misty—ouch—that _hurts_!"

"Brock's bringing Potions by later." She gave Totodile enough room to squirm out from between them, but otherwise didn't let Ash up from the bed, instead nuzzling his jaw and making him shiver. He stopped struggling to get up.

"...But," he protested feebly, "it still hurts right now."

"Good," Misty murmured against his neck, her lips moving over it in search of the soft spots she'd found last night. She grinned when she found one and heard Ash's sharp intake of breath. "Consider it punishment for scaring me like that when I woke up."

"I won't...um...do it again?" Misty might have thought he was actually uncomfortable if his hands hadn't chosen that time to wrap themselves around her back, holding her to him. As it was, she just grinned, then chuckled as Totodile made a bored noise from Ash's side.

"Good, because I'll wrap all your Pokébelts around your neck if you do." She sat up with a grin, though a blush stained her own cheeks when she caught sight of the heated look in Ash's eyes. She shoved down the sudden flare of heat in her own gut and picked up Totodile, setting him on Ash's chest to distract them. For now. She still fully intended to take advantage of this newly physical streak in Ash later, but after her Pokémon were otherwise occupied, at least.

"Now." She set her chin on top of his small blue head. "Teach me to speak Totodile."

**X**

Brock and Suzie came later that morning, as they'd promised they would. Luckily Misty remembered to tell Ash of the third addition to their group beforehand, so he wasn't startled; just shy, which amused her because it was so much like how he used to act outside of Battles when they'd first met. The three of them ignored his blushes and stutters and protests and assurances that he was fine and finally managed to get his shirt off so they could treat the wounds there, and Brock made a quick trip back to his room so that he could get some fresh clothes for Ash to borrow, since his were, Suzie declared, "Gross."

After that it was decided that Ash should stay with Misty until it was safe to go underground again. If it wasn't in a few days, Brock let him know he was welcome in his room for some male-bonding time, which really amounted to a request for Ash to teach him Zubat, since he and Suzie had walked in on Misty's Totodile session. Ash said he would be glad to. Misty could tell he was still tense around Brock, or maybe it was Suzie, but she also recognized that he was trying very hard not to be, and made a mental note to thank him for it later. He'd really changed so much over the last month that Misty was a little startled whenever she thought about it.

And so, on Monday, the waiting game began.

Misty, Brock, and Suzie each attended their classes regularly, terrified that someone would notice even the slightest absence and check for them in their rooms. Drake had, thankfully, thought to write out a syllabus in case he couldn't make the final week, so Misty wasn't forced to put up with some bumbling TA in his and Lance's absence. The entire day went smoothly. Each of them were able to sneak enough away from the cafeteria at lunch and dinner to create a viable feast for Ash, who blushed and swore he didn't need to be taken care of, then revealed to them a pile of food covered in small bitemarks that looked suspiciously like Rattata. Apparently he'd already set up his own network. Misty was a little surprised by the ease in which he procured all of the small thing for himself that she worried about, though in retrospect she knew she was just being fussy; Ash had lived his entire life out of sight in this building, it only made sense that he knew how to fend for himself in it.

Still. She was glad to be able to help now, even if only a little.

By the time they went to bed Monday night it had grown increasingly evident that he was restless. Misty didn't blame him; she'd felt the same after holing herself up in her room for a few hours' study, let alone a couple days' hiding. The next day she brought him books from the library to read, but she knew they could only help so much. His friends were fighting for their lives, he'd explained while they were trying to fall asleep, some of them so old they'd helped take care of him when he was young, and now he couldn't help in turn or Gary would get him. He knew the man's brutal tactics were only a ploy to draw him out. Misty was actually present when a Spinarak delivered some bad news to him the next morning, and even though she'd kept as far as humanly possible away from the Bug, she hadn't missed the way Ash's mouth had set into a grim line, or the way all the color that had reappeared back in his eyes faded again to black.

Pokémon were dying, and anything he did to stop it would only result in his capture along with even more of theirs. It was driving him mad.

Tuesday afternoon Misty was finishing up her day's studies beside one of the larger pools so that she could help distract Ash from his confinement later when she heard a familiar scrabbling sound in the wall beside her. She stood abruptly, and Gyarados, noticing, surfaced from where he'd been stretching his tail beneath the deep water, eager to make sure everything was all right. A small yellow Pikachu appeared suddenly from out of nowhere in a corner, and Misty dropped her books to dash over to the mouse with a cry of relief; no one had known where he'd gone, not even Ash, and even if he hadn't explicitly said anything, she knew it'd been fraying his remaining nerves.

The mouse was ruffled, dirty, and hurt, but not badly. He cooed when Misty swept him up in a tight hug, a purr erupting from his throat when she attacked all his favorite spots at once, and kissed his little head to boot. His fur was dull in color and his ears drooped at the tips, but she recognized by now that it was fatigue and nothing more; a good rest with Ash and she was sure he'd be fine.

Her Gyarados groaned suddenly from behind her, and Misty turned to see his large slitted eyes focused intently on Pikachu. The mouse stretched out an arm for him, and Misty leaned over the side of the water so that he could pat Gyarados's nose with his tiny paw. The sea monster groaned again in reply, his body arching up out of the water a bit in an unmistakable nuzzle, then slipped beneath the water to run laps along the bottom. Misty smiled. All of her Pokémon had become good friends with Pikachu during their Battles together, and while Gyarados had always been a bit wary of the mouse and his Element, she was pleased to see he'd finally gotten over his own stubbornness to acknowledge his relief at Pikachu's return.

Ash was, of course, relieved as well. The Pokémon fell asleep curled in Ash's shirt, his tail twined around Misty's wrist, and for the first time since Ash had all but collapsed on her, he slept soundly and didn't stir restlessly at odd times of the night.

Though Misty wasn't sure she'd ever get used to how ungodly early he seemed to like getting up.

Gary never showed up to interrogate her. She saw Rudi once or twice, but he was usually busy with other things, talking to some Master or other with an open cell phone in his hand. She was sure he was busy with the end-of-term rush, and glad he couldn't find the time to harass her anymore, but a bit sad, too, that their friendship seemed to have dissolved so thoroughly. She knew Ash had been to see him; he hadn't even tried to hide it from her when she'd pressed. The fact that he'd let Ash go again afterwards was all the proof Misty needed that he was still the same rusty-haired island-boy she'd known from her youth. He'd never had the heart for grudges and revenge. Or so, as the year finally wound down to a close, she desperately hoped.

Friday came and went without incident, and now it was the real crunch time. Exams began Saturday, beginning with the first few letters of the alphabet. Brock's was late Monday, and Misty's mid-Tuesday. Suzie's were already complete, as was the Breeder-portion of Brock's; they'd been written in-class exams, and both of them had done as well as Misty suspected they would. The practical ones would be all the graduating students could think about over the course of the next few days, and Misty was no exception. Ash helped as much as he could, which seemed to give him something to do to take his mind off his growing unease, so Misty didn't stop him even when his explanations began to go above and beyond what she needed to know for her Battles and demonstrations.

Save the stress and Ash's restlessness, both over his struggling Pokémon and his mother's continued absence, it was actually a fairly easy week, and nothing out of the ordinary happened until Brock's exam Monday evening.

His Graveler, Geodude, and Onix were, of course, polished and chiseled to perfection; Brock had always been good at that kind of thing. His Bonsly, the youngest of his charges and one of the reasons he'd aced most of his Breeding exams, was declared to be in top condition, and the fluid leaking from its eyes gathered and tested to prove that it was, in fact, in perfect health. Zubat did perfectly on his echolocation exam, thanks to a little last-minute help from Ash. Having raised each of his Pokémon from birth, Brock hadn't had a chance to choose a sixth, so they then went on to the more practical portion of his exam: Battling.

Pikachu cooed as his Onix unleashed a devastating Attack on the opponent Nidoking, who with all its armor and weight was no match for the giant rock snake. Misty leaned her chin on the top of the mouse's head and grinned as Suzie let out a whoop beside her. She knew sneaking the Pokémon in was probably a bad idea, with all the security around, but this was _Brock's Battle_ and there were snacks _everywhere_ and he'd been cooped up in Misty's room with Ash for _days_, so she couldn't blame the mouse for biting Ash's arms and then scrambling out of them when he'd tried to forbid him from going. Misty knew Ash was just testy from being cooped up himself. She'd considered staying there with him and keeping him company, but he wouldn't let her. Honestly, though, it hadn't taken much coaxing. She was excited for Brock, and wasn't exactly enthused at the idea of missing the culmination of skills from his last ten years here.

He was awarded borderline top marks, with only a few deductions for stupid little things like unconventional Training methods and altered Attacks. His entire family had been watching from the seats set aside for relatives, and by the time Misty and Suzie were able to muscle their way down to the Grand Arena's floor, Flint had his son in a headlock and all ten of his siblings were trying to attach themselves to various parts of his anatomy as his mother stood with Suzie's parents and laughed. Beside Misty, Suzie herself was blushing, and they shared a bit of a giggle together before Flint gestured them over and they moved to join the throng. Pikachu was nabbed from Misty's shoulder be a gaggle of curious little people, and he sparked in surprise at being handled by the children, until Brock grabbed him out of his little brother's hands and rubbed the mouse's belly over his own head like a balloon, laughing when his hair stood on end. Pikachu giggled too, and then all of the children wanted to try, no one suspicious, for once, of the sudden appearance of the Electric-Type.

That was when Misty caught sight of Gary. He'd been suspiciously absent from his usual seat among the two headMasters for every Battle exam this year, and Brock's had been no different. This worried her, because she knew it had something to do with his mad hunt for Ash, but she wasn't sure what, right now, she could do about it. Ash was currently cooped up alone in Brock's room, where he assured them all there was a secret escape just in case, playing a portable game without batteries because watching his ancestors' possessions from centuries ago be pawned off to rich collectors on the news had begun to upset him. He had books, Misty knew. He had a television to watch the broadcast of the Exam. He had lookouts stationed up and down the halls, and he had more food than any of them knew what to do with, but still, as excited as Misty was for Brock, she hadn't been able to shake an uneasy feeling at leaving him alone like this for their exams. If Gary was going to strike, now would be the time to do it.

And yet there he was, in front of the cameras, giving what looked like an arrogant speech to a curious anchorman as Rudi stood looking professionally bored beside him. His teal eyes caught Misty's suddenly and he started a little, then offered a small smile. Misty was hesitant to return it, unsure if Gary's presence meant that something had just happened or not, until he nodded at Brock and she realized that he was only being congratulatory. Then she grinned, and from across the crowd Rudi grinned back, and for a few short moments it felt like they were friends again, grinning secretly at the shared knowledge that they'd dumped a bucket of island sand in Daisy or Lily or Violet's bed.

Then a sharp hand gripped her arm suddenly, and a nearly frantic voice hissed in her ear:

_"Where is my son?"_

Misty turned to see a pale-faced Delia beside her, her hair a little unkempt and her clothes slightly rumpled. From over the woman's shoulder she could see Brock's mother in particular watching them curiously, but she gave her a small grin and a wave and tucked her arm into Delia's to tug them surreptitiously off to the side, heart thudding quickly at the scare Delia had given her.

"He's _fine_," she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Delia was well-known throughout the Stadium, as was her unmarried, childless status. "Come on, I'll take you to him."

"He's _here_?" Delia demanded shrilly. Her voice was loud enough to make Misty glance around herself in worry. Brock was watching them, a grin on his face as Pikachu burrowed into his shirt, tail hanging out the bottom like a pendulum for his siblings to try and catch. Misty was filled with such a relief herself at seeing Delia all right and knowing that, no matter what, Brock had been graded and would now graduate that she grinned back, and took Delia's hand as she nodded to show her friend that she was leaving. Brock looked a little disappointed, but nodded as well. Misty promised herself she would make it up to him later; right now the memory of her frantic worry for Ash from the week before was still fresh in her mind, and she wanted to help alleviate Delia from it as quickly as possible.

"Where is he?" Delia wanted to know. Her hand was clutching Misty's tightly as she tugged her over to the door, careful not to lose each other in the thick crowd. Misty glanced up to make sure Gary wasn't in sight before turning back to her.

"Brock's room. He's fine, I promise. He's been staying with me all week."

"With _you_?" Delia asked incredulously, in a voice that stung Misty a little and made it sound like all those little hints she'd dropped to convince her that Ash really trusted her were to make her feel better, and not because she actually believed them. Misty tried to brush the feeling aside. She'd come to seek Delia's approval as much as Ash's in the last few months, she knew—and Drake's too, for that matter. They were his only family and it was obvious—especially lately, in their absence—that he cared for them. She didn't want to let his mother down.

"Yes, with _me_," she clarified, and then added stubbornly, "I've been taking good care of him. He's got Gary thinking he's still pinned on the other side of the lake, where he can't get to."

"He's been with you this _whole time_?"

Again that stab of mixed hurt and pride. Misty hoped Delia hadn't been lying when she'd said all those things before. "Yes, the whole time," she sighed as they finally broke through the barrier at the door and were able to move down the crowded lobby a little more freely. "Except for today. We put him in Brock's room just in case."

Delia was silent for a moment as she let Misty tug her along. Misty wasn't sure what to make of it, and tried her hardest to remind herself that the woman was under a lot of stress at the moment, that she herself had been in much the same kind of frenzy when she hadn't known for sure if Ash was safe, and that she hadn't been placed under criminal charges to boot. She had to give Delia a break, even if she was finding it difficult. She'd hoped that Delia would trust her with Ash's safety while she was gone, even if it was a backwards sort of outdated chivalric notion to think that Ash needed to be protected.

It took several minutes longer than it should have to break free of the throng and finally make their way down a hallway leading to the dorms. There was another match scheduled after Brock's, so most of the people remained in the Grand Arena, leaving the rest of the Stadium far from empty, but much less packed than where the action was. Delia was silent behind Misty until they made it to the first floor of the dorms themselves, and Misty slapped her palm against the up button for the elevator.

"Are you sure he hasn't just been pretending to stay with you, and sneaking off when you don't notice?"

It was such an unexpectedly faithless question to hear that Misty turned and stared at the woman with a frown. Delia still looked worried, but confused too, in a slightly thoughtful way. Without knowing the logic behind her inquiry, if there was any in the state Delia was in, Misty forced herself not to snap at her.

"Of course he's not. We—I'd _notice_," she quickly corrected with a blush. Ash's own mother didn't need to know that she and Ash had been sleeping together, if not in the sexual sense, than at least in the literal one. Ash hadn't let them repeat their first night together, and while it frustrated her a little, especially when it was obvious, even as Ash stayed her hands and fixed her clothes, that he felt much the same way she did, she didn't want to push. That first night had been...well. There was nothing _bad_ about it, and she'd made very certain that Ash didn't regret it either—he'd sworn when she finally lost her temper enough to actually ask him, and he'd never outright lied to her before—but even she couldn't deny that it was an act born of relief and desperation. She got the feeling Ash had been too anxious the first couple nights to open himself up like that again, and Pikachu had been around for the rest.

But Delia, being Delia, of course, noticed anyway. She tilted her head and peered at Misty with the first hint of something other than worry since she'd suddenly appeared.

"Are you two sleeping together?"

The elevator door dinged its arrival, and Misty used the distraction of stepping into it and pressing the nine for Brock's floor as an excuse not to look at her as she stammered an embarrassed response. "Well we're not—you know, _sleeping_ or anything like—I mean! We _are_ sleeping, because that's all we're doing—_all_ we're doing, just—_together_, but not in the sense of _sleeping together_, because that's just—well, it's just—it's _wrong_. Because Pikachu's there too."

The moment it left her mouth Misty knew she'd made it sound worse than it was, like Pikachu was the only reason they _weren't _sleeping together, and yet she couldn't think of anything to say right now to fix it. She was confused on the subject herself, and had been too preoccupied with keeping Ash safe and unnoticed and preparing for her own exams and helping Brock and Suzie prepare for theirs that she hadn't had time to sort out exactly how she felt about it. Ash was worried about his mother and his uncle and his Pokémon, and she was sure it had nothing to do with her—not _really_. But a tiny, nasty part of her couldn't help but wonder if Ash had only done it the first night because he'd been too scared out of his mind to think properly, despite what he'd said about it afterwards.

Confused and embarrassed as she was to have just blurted that out to _his mother_, it took Misty a moment to realize that Delia was watching her with a tiny smile.

"He's really sleeping with you? In your bed?"

That question was straightforward enough that Misty nodded, a little confused as to why Delia was asking it. Until she continued with a widening grin:

"Misty, that's _incredible_! Really! I mean, as long as you're sure he's all right; he hasn't slept up here for _ages_, he doesn't even like anything that will put him out aboveground while he's hurt."

"Really?" Misty felt her spirits lift a little. It was sounding again like Delia was pleasantly surprised that Ash felt comfortable enough with her to fall asleep instead of incredulous that he ever could.

"Oh, I'm so _happy_ for you," the woman continued, looking much better than she had since she'd arrived. "Maybe he'll do all right after all. I was so worried he wouldn't make himself adjust, but if he already is..."

Misty wasn't sure what to make of that, and they were near enough to the end of the hall now that she wasn't sure she could ask without Ash overhearing from inside Brock's room. And sure enough, as they drew closer, Brock's door cracked open and a single, mostly chocolate eye peeked through.

"Mom?"

"_Ash_, sweetie, I was so _worried_..."

Delia launched herself on her son who, to Misty's surprised amusement, returned her fervent hug instead of attempting to squirm away. She glanced behind herself to make sure that no one was watching before following the pair into Brock's room, closing the door softly behind her. She felt a little out of place, watching Delia comb her fingers through Ash's hair like he was twelve instead of twenty-two and glimpsing the goofy, relieved grin on Ash's face as he let her. A little out of place, but happy, and incredibly relieved herself.

"And look at you!" Delia was exclaiming, stepping back only long enough to give him a quick once-over before crushing him to her chest again. He was a good few inches taller than her, and the scene was comical enough that Misty had to hide a grin behind her hand. "No wraps, no gloves, no coat, clothes hanging off of you like a beggar's..."

"They're Brock's, Mom," Ash told her dryly. He met Misty's eyes briefly, and though he looked as ruffled and annoyed as he usually did when his mother fussed over him, it was obvious that, for once, he really didn't mind it.

"Brock's? And where are yours?"

"Stuck down there."

"Stuck?"

Ash sighed, his tone turning serious. "I can't go down there anymore right now. Gary's got everything blocked off. If I try, someone will see me, and then I won't be able to come back up again."

He met Delia's eyes as he said this, and Delia gave him an unreadable expression, and Misty was sure there was something to this conversation that she was missing when Delia suddenly smiled and pulled him down to kiss his forehead.

"Well, I'm glad you've finally made that choice. It was the _right_ one. And I hear you're sleeping up here! See? I told you you could do it!"

Any seriousness in Ash's face drained very suddenly, along with the color. "Mom, it's not like—"

"And after all those nightmares and everything! And _with_ someone! And—"

"_Mom!_"

"Well," Delia conceded, calming down, "I'm just glad you're all right. I figured you would be when I never heard anything solid, but you know I can't help _worrying_."

Ash sighed heavily, avoiding her eyes. "I know."

"Well I'm back for good, at least, so we won't ever have to do that again. I didn't like not having the Pokémon around to tell me how you were."

Ash's head shot up at that, hopeful surprise flickering across his features as Misty felt a surge of relief wash through her.

"Really?" she asked before Ash could gather himself enough to. "They dropped the charges?"

Delia sighed, and moved away from Ash to start gathering up the things he'd scattered around Brock's room, mostly a few books and game cartridges he'd obviously just been using. "No," she sighed, "not dropped entirely, but Drake's been throwing a bunch of papers at them all week, and I suppose one of them finally stuck. They're not allowed to hold me anymore, as long as I appear for my court date after the holidays."

"You have a court date?" Ash asked, looking suddenly as nervous as he had since before his mother had returned. Misty stepped over to him and tucked an arm into his reassuringly, though she didn't like the sound of that either. Ash glanced at her briefly in surprise, but it was the reaction she always got when she touched him unexpectedly, and as always, he settled again after a moment and even stepped a little closer.

"For what?" Misty wanted to know. She hadn't expected Ash to react so well with her in front of his mother, and her chest felt warm and tingly now that he was.

"Nothing serious," Delia reassured them, stooping to pick up what looked like a broken Pokéball. "Whose is this?"

"Heracross," Ash answered, then blushed a little as Delia glanced back at them and smiled. She quickly bent to pick up the other half.

"Why is it broken?"

"They're all broken," Ash explained. "All except the ones who want to stay with me. They can't be caught if they're already registered in a 'Ball, and they can't be recalled if it doesn't work."

"Good thinking," Delia said proudly. It looked like there was something else she wanted to say as well, but thought better of, and instead turned to pick up the last of Ash's things, adding it to the teetering pile in her arms. "Well then, let's go."

Both Ash and Misty started. "Go?" he asked as Misty frowned.

"Go where?"

"Lance is anxious to see you," Delia nodded at her son, then turned to Misty with a smile. "He told me in the courthouse that he finally met you. I'm so glad. Ash has been insisting that he be kept in the dark for _months_ now—"

"Because he doesn't shut up!" Ash hissed. He slipped his arm out of Misty's in order to move and take back his things from his mother. "All he does is _tease_ and _insinuate_, and it was bad enough when he _didn't_ know who she was."

Delia grinned and shared a glance with Misty, who wasn't sure what it meant, but was eager to see Lance again all the same. He seemed like a nice man, despite Ash's frustrations with him, and he was one of the few Masters in the Stadium who Misty respected enough to actually feel speechless and reverent around.

"Nonsense," Delia bustled, "you've been harboring this ridiculous grudge against him ever since he threw you in the lake that one time—"

"In my _clothes_!" Ash sputtered. "In _February_!"

"—and found out he was too heavy to reciprocate against. Now. He missed you. No shocking—"

"But he _deserves_ it!"

"—no shuffling around rubbing static into the carpet—"

"That wasn't on _purpose_, and I apologized already."

"—and _no language_. Are we clear?"

Ash mumbled something incoherent and pressed the small stack of books to his chest, crossing his arms over them moodily. Delia seemed to find this an acceptable answer, though, because she nodded and said, "Good. You can still find your way up to his office, can't you?"

"_Yes_, Mom."

"Then you have ten minutes. No dawdling. Come on, Misty."

She brushed by Misty on her way to the door, and Misty turned to give Ash a confused look before following, but he only rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Bet he's not too heavy for _Feraligatr_," as she passed.

"What was that about?" Misty asked as she joined Delia in the hall. The pair found their way back to the elevator and waited for it to reach them again.

Delia looked at her with an uncomprehending expression. "About?"

"Yeah, with—" Misty had to stop and reword what she'd been about to say in her head, a little uncomfortable talking to Delia about both her son and the man she was seeing at the same time. "With...those two," she finally finished.

"You mean Lance and Ash?" Delia clarified. Misty nodded as the elevator arrived and they stepped inside together, then waited patiently for it to lower to the fourth floor. To her confusion, Delia was smiling. "Oh, Ash is just being a big baby about things. He's glued himself to his uncle ever since he was old enough to latch onto his shins, and he doesn't want Lance taking his place."

"His place?" Misty asked, frowning. She knew now that Delia was dating Lance, in a sense, but she had no idea she was trying to make him _family_. She couldn't blame Ash for being hesitant. His family wasn't exactly a normal one, and without a father, it made sense that he'd look up to his father's only brother instead. But she didn't understand why including Lance had to push Drake aside. "Can't he and Master Drake just...share?"

Delia sighed. "It's all very complicated," she began, but smiled reassuringly when Misty gave her a disappointed look, expecting to be given some half-explanation again. To her surprise, Delia continued. "Drake and Cypress's mother was a—well. You know." She paused a moment to lower her voice. "Cypress got it from their father, and passed it down to Ash. But their mother was Water, not Electricity. Drake got a little of it, but not nearly enough—mostly just Dragon from his grandmother. He couldn't quite control anything, so they didn't need him. He grew up aboveground."

"What, alone?" Misty asked, startled. She'd never thought that, as feared and persecuted as Elementals were today, they would turn around and do the same to someone who didn't fit in with _them_. Ash's mother nodded with a small sigh.

"He found foster parents, the Pumellos from the Orange Islands, but you know that's not the same. His real family never treated him as one of their own, and even though he and Cypress stayed as close as they could for as long as they could, he never considered himself one of them. Ash only reminds him of all that."

She sighed suddenly, heavily, and for a moment some of her energy was lost and she really looked her age. The change was so similar to the ones Ash went through sometimes that Misty found herself wanting to hug the woman, and might have if the doors hadn't chosen that moment to open with a small, lighthearted ding.

"Drake is not a very good father figure," Delia told Misty softly as they turned toward the string of offices a ways down the hall, well outside of the dormitories. "Ash wanted him to be, but he looks too much like his father for Drake's comfort, and Drake's..." She sighed and looked at Misty. "Drake's a good man. We're very close, and he's done worlds for Ash, especially when he was younger and he needed the help. But I know it's hard for him. He looks at Ash and sees Cypress there, no matter how little like him Ash acts. Honestly, Ash takes more after his uncle, but both of them are too estranged now to even notice. Drake's made it clear to Ash on more than one occasion that he only wants to speak to him if there's some business to discuss, and Ash, well. He's always been a fast learner. He idolized Drake when he was a boy, but Drake was still too upset by his brother's death to notice."

"But that's awful," Misty interjected, reeling from this sudden slew of information. She'd never known there was anything tense between Ash and his uncle; she'd never really spoken to Ash about him at all, and Drake had always seemed in good enough spirits when talking about his nephew.

"Yes, well," Delia nodded, sighing again, "they get on. I think Drake may be realizing what he's done to their relationship lately. He's been trying to fix it."

"But?" The word was evident in Delia's tone, even if she never voiced it aloud. Delia glanced at her.

"But you know Ash. He's stubborn and wary and very proud, even if he doesn't admit it. _That_ much he gets from his father. Drake will have to work at him harder than you've done, and I don't know if he shares your sense of resolve."

"But what about Master Lance, then?" Misty questioned. "If Drake's not around like that, then why—?"

To her surprise, Delia smiled, and some of the laughter that had returned during her visit with Ash reappeared in her eyes now. "Ash doesn't like Lance because Lance treats him like a human being, like my _son_, and he refuses to do any differently no matter how vehemently Ash protests. Lance is a good man. I think Ash is just frustrated because no matter how much he tries to hate him, he knows that, too."

"And Lance doesn't—"

"Did someone mention my name?"

They'd just rounded a corner, and suddenly there Lance was, face splitting into a grin as Delia suddenly beamed up at him. He threw a wink in Misty's direction before bending to give Delia a quick kiss, a hand sliding around her waist in what was clearly a familiar gesture.

"Well?" he asked expectantly, glancing from Delia back to Misty again. "You're not hyperventilating anymore, so I take it he's all right. Where's he hidden himself this time?"

"With Misty," Delia told him, smile suddenly turning a bit mischievous. Misty felt her cheeks heat as Lance regarded her with raised eyebrows, then another grin, this one twisting a bit into a smirk.

"Really? And Oak hasn't thought to look there?"

"There's a hidden panel in my room," Misty explained, trying very hard to keep this conversation neutral. "I think he's tried, but it's my _bedroom_; he can't always be hanging around there, and Ash gets out through the ceiling."

"Speaking of," Delia interrupted, "he's supposed to meet us in your office. We were on our way there now. Where were _you_ off to?"

"To find you," Lance told her genially, turning to lead them back where he'd come from. To Misty's surprise, he held his free arm back for her to join them, and she found herself catching up in a mixture of confusion and awkwardness as he settled it lightly on her back, in what she knew was more of a parental gesture than an intimate one, but which she was unused to all the same.

"How is he?" Lance was asking Delia softly, clearly thinking nothing of Misty's presence on his other side. "Not bad, I hope?"

"A little beat up," Delia answered, "but much better than I expected. The kids took good care of him. He looks more restless than hurt."

"And his team?" Lance continued quietly. Misty could barely hear their conversation and wasn't sure if she should be able to at all, so she kept silent and counted the remaining doors before Lance's grad student office instead, though she couldn't keep herself from straining her ears to catch more.

Delia sighed. "I didn't ask, but from the look on his face, they're not doing very well. He wants to be down there."

"And he isn't?" Lance asked, clearly surprised.

Delia didn't respond, and it took Misty a moment to realize she'd turned to look at him. This made her feel even more out of place, and she struggled harder to pretend she wasn't there.

"Ah," Lance finally replied at length. "Well. That's encouraging, isn't it?"

"Not if he can't bring himself to get over it."

"He will," Lance told her, his voice suddenly strong. He turned and gave Misty a confident grin. "Right?"

"Er..."

"Of course he will," Lance replied for her, and patted her on the back. "He's never stayed aboveground when he didn't want to before, the sneaky little brat. Always scampering off to avoid everyone. If he's staying now, it's because he thinks it's worth something."

The trio stopped outside his office and he pulled a key from his pocket, glancing quickly up and down the hall before pushing the door open. He waited until Misty and Delia had a chance to slip inside under his outstretched arm, then pushed it closed again and grinned across the room.

"_There's_ the boy. Still able to move around pretty easily up here, I take it?"

Ash was sitting on top of his desk with one leg curled and both arms wrapped around it, his stack of things nowhere to be seen. He glared up at Lance from under his ruffled bangs and then rolled his eyes, which had been bare ever since he'd gotten himself stuck with Misty. Neither she nor Brock nor Suzie had any sunglasses to loan him, and probably wouldn't if they had.

"They think I'm still stuck down there, not up here. They're just guarding the ground floor in case I try to get through either way. They think—"

He squeaked suddenly as Lance crossed the small room in one big stride, then gathered him up in a tight hug, knee and all. Ash immediately began squirming to get away, and Lance laughed at his tactics and finally released him, only to grab him again in a headlock and ruffle his hair with his knuckles.

"_Lance!_" Ash protested. Misty started from her half-amused sense of surprise when she saw sparks suddenly zip in a lopsided electric circle around his arm, but Lance only laughed it off and slapped a hand against Ash's back before releasing him, hard enough that he nearly toppled forward off the desk.

"That's for sitting on all my paperwork, you little beast," he said with a grin. Ash glowered up at him, but it was obvious that the mess of papers spread out beneath him had once belonged to what remained of a few small stacks sitting at the corner. Delia tsked suddenly as she approached.

"Oh _Ash_, did you really mess all this up? Put it back, Lance has better things to do than clean up after you."

"Like?" Ash demanded, but his face switched from sarcastic to disbelieving when he realized his mother was serious. "I don't know where they all _go_!"

"It's fine, Delia," Lance chuckled. "I still need to sort through them for grading anyway."

"It's not like I did it on _purpose_," Ash muttered in his own defense.

"Because there are _clearly_ no chairs in this room," Lance agreed with a smirk, sidling around his desk and sinking back into his own. Ash just scowled.

"I shouldn't even be here," he said irritably. "Can I go now?"

"Of course," Lance shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Couldn't you have just gotten that from my _mom_?"

"And miss the pleasure of your genial company? I would never."

Ash glared at him briefly, then evidently decided to pretend he didn't exist, because he turned to Misty instead. "How did Brock do?"

Watching Ash interact with his family had been a little strange at first, but at the mention of her best friend again, Misty's shyness vanished and she grinned. "Top marks, almost. His entire family's celebrating with him, but he'll probably come find me in my room when they're done."

"Shouldn't you be with them?"

Any awkwardness that had dissipated at the topic change came flooding back as she suddenly realized that all three of them were watching her. At first it felt like Ash was trying to get rid of her, but she knew that was silly, and only reminiscent of her own discomfort at the moment. Ash didn't want her to go, that fact became more and more obvious the longer she looked at him and considered his question, until finally she smiled and told them the truth.

"No. I'd rather be here."

**X**

Brock's entire family went out to dinner that night with Suzie's, and while Misty had meant what she'd said and had argued against it, together Ash and Delia and even Lance finally managed to usher her out of the Stadium doors with them. It wasn't that she'd have rather stayed behind, exactly, but that she'd finally begun to feel comfortable with Ash and his mother and Lance, like she was actually one of them instead of just an observer. In truth, she didn't want to miss Brock's celebration for the world, she simply didn't want to disrupt that familial feeling she'd just begun to sink into. It was the same kind she'd always felt with Brock's family. She hadn't expected to feel it anywhere else.

But they'd _insisted_, and when she'd finally gone back to her room to change, Brock and Suzie and Pikachu had arrived, grinning and laughing and shocking everything in sight, and then there'd been no question about it. Ash disappeared into the ceiling again with Pikachu in tow, and Misty had a feeling he was going back to see Lance again, however much he'd protested to being forced into his company before. He'd asked about his uncle before he and Misty left, and the answer he'd gotten hadn't been enough to satisfy Misty, either. She was worried for him, but if going out with her friends would give him the alone time he needed to find out what was going on with his uncle in private, she was glad to give it. Besides, she thought stubbornly as she quickly slipped into a nicer pair of jeans and some good shoes, she was already forming plans to ask him about it later.

Going out to nice restaurants was rare, but for once Brock's family managed. The children took up an entire party table themselves, but Suzie's parents didn't seem to mind the noise, and were in fact just as ecstatic that their only daughter was finally done with school as Brock's parents were for him. And neither of them minded Misty's company, despite her obvious lack of family. Instead they seemed glad that Suzie had made such good friends at the Stadium, and with a Gym Leader's son, too! When talk finally turned to news of their Breeding Center in Celadon, the adults were distracted enough that Misty was able to tell Brock and Suzie that Delia was all right.

"That's a relief," Brock said with a sigh. Suzie had never known the woman very well, so she kept quiet, watching Brock's reaction instead. "But what's her court date for?"

"She didn't say," Misty said with a frown. "I'll ask Ash later if he can find out. I think he went to talk to Lance again. Something's not right with Drake."

This time it was Suzie who frowned. "What do you mean?"

Misty shrugged. "I don't know, Lance wouldn't say. Ash won't let that go, though. I think they both wanted to wait until Delia was out of the room."

"Why?" Brock asked, clearly confused.

Misty frowned again as she recalled what Delia had told her earlier about Ash's uncle, and about the pair's relationship together. It'd sounded to her like Delia didn't approve of the things Drake had done, and Misty wondered if that had something to do with it. Even if Ash wasn't as close to him as he'd once tried to be, Drake was still his _uncle_, and still his father's only living relative. Misty got the feeling, both from that conversation and a myriad of other little things Ash had let drop over their months together before, that there was something there that both she and Delia were missing.

"I'm not sure," she finally replied, "but I'll find out."

Talk turned to Misty's upcoming Battle then, and included all three of them for the rest of the night. It was nice, getting away from the constant worry and fear for a while, and it was fun helping to carry the half of Brock's siblings who had fallen asleep in the van up into their hotel room for the night, and it was exhausting walking the block or so back to the Stadium and making their way back up to their rooms.

Nice, fun, exhausting, and a little nerve-wracking. Every passing hour brought Misty closer to her final exam set for the following afternoon, and every time she remembered that she felt anxious and a little nauseous.

Ash wasn't in her room when she got back, but she forced herself to push aside the automatic sense of worry that rose up in her. There was no reason he shouldn't be okay, if Gary and his men really believed he was still below the Stadium somewhere, as he and the random Pokémon who had come to visit him and bring him news constantly assured her. She couldn't imagine Ash sitting in Lance's office to speak to the man for so long, but then, a lot had happened in a very short amount of time, and he may very well have been.

After showering and changing for bed, though, she began to worry. Ash's things were on her bed where he'd left them before, untouched. She'd just begun to worry if she should pull some jeans on over her pajama bottoms and find her way back to Lance's again when a panel in the center of her ceiling suddenly disappeared and a pair of jeans dropped through.

"Where have you_ been_?" Misty demanded as the rest of Ash slowly appeared, her anger at his absence gripping her before anything else could. Then she realized that he'd changed clothes, and that they weren't Brock's. They fit him much better, and when he looked at her his face was clean and his hair was damp, and it was obvious that he'd found some shower to use somewhere without having to slip into the boys' one before most of them woke up for classes.

Ash glanced at her, but he was familiar enough with her quick tantrums by now that he didn't back down from it. Instead he dragged her desk chair over so that he could stand on it and put the ceiling back in place, answering her while he moved. "Lance's suite. I kept a change of clothes there just in case, so he let me clean up. Tomorrow he's going to get me some more so that Brock can have all of his back."

That was nice of him, Misty acknowledged silently, her anger already fading. She couldn't help but remember what Delia had told her before. "I thought you didn't like him," she prodded cautiously, curious.

Ash glanced at her again as he climbed back down and moved the chair back into place. "I don't _dislike_ him," he grumbled unhappily. "He's just annoying."

"He seems to make your mom pretty happy," Misty pointed out. Ash sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was still wet enough that it stuck up in his wake.

"Yeah, he does. And she is. And that's good."

"You were really worried about her," Misty acknowledged softly. Ash met her eyes briefly, but didn't argue. It'd grown more and more obvious over the last few days, but she'd never mentioned it before, namely because she was worried too, and she knew that bringing it up wouldn't do any good. But now she was back, and Ash looked tired instead of nervous, but the kind of tired that you got after a weight had finally been lifted, not the kind of tired he'd gotten while struggling to act normal while he carried it around.

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "I thought Gary might have done something to keep her from coming back. But Lance said it was all legal jargon. It just took Drake a few days to work through it."

Misty sat on the edge of her bed as he spoke, and when Ash noticed he came over to join her. She turned so that she could see him better. "And how is he?"

"Not good," Ash replied heavily. "Lance has got a bunch of people from here petitioning on his behalf, but it'll be a while. I mean." He paused and shifted a little, pooling his hands in his lap for something to do with them. "Not good in that it'll _take_ a while. He's appealing on the notion that what he's doing is a help, not a hindrance. Lance says he has enough evidence to back up his claim, but it'll take forever to go through, and he won't be allowed to work here again until it does."

"You miss him?" Misty asked softly. Ash looked up at her in surprise.

"I, uh...Well yeah, he's my _uncle_. He's always been here. Even when he didn't want to be."

Misty frowned. "What does that mean?"

Shrugging, it was obvious as soon as Ash spoke that he was engaging in his usual topical diversionary tactics again. "Nothing. I didn't mean anything by it." He pushed himself up off the bed, but after everything she'd heard today, Misty was too curious to let this one go. She tugged on his wrist to keep him there.

"No really, Ash. I want to know."

Ash regarded her carefully for a moment, but he eventually sank back down onto the bed beside her, and Misty didn't let go of his wrist. After a moment he turned his hand upside down so that she was holding that instead, and then took hold of hers and turned it over so that he could trace light patterns on her palm. She tried to concentrate on how much it tingled instead of tickled.

"I just meant," he began after a moment, eyes down, "that he's always had a lot of stuff going on, and sometimes he doesn't want to do things I need him to, even though he's the only one who can."

"Like?" Misty urged gently.

"Like telling me things, mostly," Ash said through a sigh, like it was a big deal. "You know, _things_. About my dad. About their dad. About how things are supposed to go. He doesn't like talking about it all."

"Because he's not like you?" Misty guessed. Ash's finger stopped moving for a moment and he looked at her again in surprise, but didn't comment on it, and instead looked down again and resumed what he'd been doing before.

"Yeah. Kinda. Him and my dad were close, but only because my dad wanted to be. I think Drake did too, for a little while, but then he didn't, and all Dad did was annoy him every time he came and told him about all the stuff he was missing. That's what it sounds like, anyway. And every time I bring it up, I remind him again."

"But that sounds a little selfish," Misty pointed out with a frown. "You have a right to know about your dad."

"I know enough about him," Ash muttered darkly. "Believe me. I wish I didn't. He deserved what Sam Oak did to him, even if Oak deserved what Dad did too."

"_What?_" Misty demanded surprised. "He deserved being _killed_?"

"He was a _jerk_!" Ash suddenly exploded, turning to face her instead of their hands. "A stupid, careless, selfish _idiot_. _He_ provoked _Oak_, not the other way around. He _kidnapped_ my mom, and then he wanted Drake to tell him what to do with her. _He_ started this whole thing with me and Gary, and then he got killed and left me to deal with it. But I don't even _care _about that, I know he didn't mean to. But that's the _thing_. He never meant to do anything, and all this stuff happened because of it. My mom's been stuck here her whole life taking care of me, and now Gary's got so many people that I can't go down there at all anymore. Not if I wanna come back."

Misty thought about that for a moment, startled by this sudden outburst by Ash against his father, but for the moment more concerned with what he'd said afterwards. "And you do want to come back," she realized aloud. Suddenly a lot of the day's seemingly random bits of conversation made a lot more sense.

Ash sighed and picked up her hand again, this time dragging his finger over the back of it. "Of course I want to come back," he mumbled, his ears tinting red. "I told you I don't ever want to do last week again."

For a moment Misty just watched him, until what he was saying had had a chance to really sink in, and then she reached over with her free hand to tilt Ash's chin up and kiss him. He _wanted_ to be here, and that's why he was. He wanted to help his Pokémon, too, but he wasn't on the fence about it anymore. He wasn't _weighing_ anything anymore. He'd made his decision and he was carrying it through, and Misty didn't know how else to react to that knowledge than to thank him.

So she did.

Ash looked confused, and still startled by the sudden kiss. "For what?" he wanted to know, cheeks coloring when she didn't let him drop his gaze. "What did I do?"

"For meaning it," Misty said with a grin. Then she moved to crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs on the edge of the bed, and before he could protest she leaned in to kiss him again, until he made a small sound at the intimacy of it, and she felt his hands come up to press against the small of her back.

"What was that for?" he asked breathlessly. His eyes were gold and chocolate, and they were still focused on her mouth. Misty smiled mischievously.

"Where's Pikachu?"

"He's with—oh. Uh. Um." He swallowed when he caught on, suddenly nervous, and Misty grinned as she pushed back on his chest.

"Yes?"

"Mom said one of the Joys in the Center promised to treat him when it was closed and no one was paying attention. Misty, uh, I don't think—"

Misty ignored him, and kept pressing until he was forced to lie on his back on the bed. He wasn't distracted by the absence of his mother tonight, and she had a bad feeling about her exam tomorrow, and she fully intended to take advantage of this situation before then while she still could. She scooted up his thighs a little and kissed him again, and he seemed to only debate with himself for a moment before she could feel him kissing back.

Ash's hair was deliciously damp as she tangled her fingers through it, and found that spot just behind his ear that made him moan. The sound slipped out before he could stop it, just like it had last week, making her grin. Then she squeaked in surprise as Ash's arms suddenly tightened around her waist and he rolled them over.

"Wait," he panted against her lips, but Misty was having none of that tonight. She managed to slip a hand under his shirt and trailed her fingers along his stomach, smiling when it twitched and his breathing hitched.

"I don't want to, Ash," she argued softly. Her free hand brushed along the back of his neck, making him shiver and look up at her. "Why should we?" she asked when he met her eyes.

"Because," he murmured, looking distracted again. He leaned forward and kissed her briefly, but then he seemed to gain control of himself again and moved away. "No, _because_!" he sputtered. "Because!"

Misty frowned as he rolled off her. She pushed herself up beside him, ready to keep him from leaving completely, but he didn't try. Instead he busied himself grabbing up his books and setting them on the floor.

"Because?" she finally prompted.

"Because," he answered, as if that was all the explanation she needed. Misty's frown deepened as she felt her temper catch.

"That's not a reason," she pointed out. Then, because he was being an ass and because she was sick of wondering about it all the time, she blurted, "Do you regret the other night, or not?"

"What?" Ash stopped moving and turned to stare at her with a deepening frown of his own. "_No_, I told you that."

"You're not acting like it."

"How am I supposed to act like it, then?"

"By not always shoving me away," Misty replied evenly. He paused, and she continued: "By acting like you want to, for a change. By not always coming up with excuses not to, even when you don't _have_ any."

"That's not—I'm not coming up with _excuses_."

"No," Misty snapped bitterly, "because you're not even bothering with _that_ anymore, are you."

Ash stared at her. Misty stared back. Somewhere in her she knew this wasn't Ash's fault. She knew she was being selfish and probably pushing him too hard, and that if he didn't want to it had something to do with himself and not her. She _knew_ all that, and she believed it. She trusted him.

But she'd gotten her hopes up again despite herself, and for a moment there Ash had reacted exactly the way she'd wanted him to, the way he _always_ had, really, since that first night together, but in the end he'd ended up pushing her away again, and no matter how firmly she knew and believed that it wasn't anything about _her_ that made him stop, it was still incredibly difficult not to feel like it was.

"Are you trying to tell me you think I don't _want_ to?" Ash finally asked. Misty glared in lieu of a reply. She knew Ash could be dense sometimes, but she also knew he wasn't _that_ dense.

For a moment he just stared at her incredulously, until Misty began to wish she could take it all back and pretend not to let it bother her anymore. It still would, but she felt selfish demanding so much of Ash when he had so many other things on his plate. Just because his mother was back didn't mean all of his troubles were over.

But then Ash moved, and Misty couldn't keep up with it. An instant later he was pressing her back against the bed again and kissing her hungrily, the same way he had when she'd been trapped between him and her door last Saturday, and she didn't have any time to react to it. His hand slid up to cup her jaw and angle her head the way he wanted, and they both moaned at the sudden surge of intensity, and Misty at the way he was suddenly, unexpectedly, taking the initiative.

She had no breath left in her when he finally pulled away a little, but not nearly far enough to let her up. "I want you," he rasped, his voice a throaty gurgle that left little imagination as to how much. "I _do_." He shifted his weight over top of her so that she could at least try to breathe again, even though she'd forgotten how, and tilted her head back to begin pressing kisses all along the curve of her jaw, his free hand tumbling through her hair. "All the time," he murmured against it. "But Misty..."

He paused then, nuzzling instead of kissing, and sighed. Misty ran a hand down his back and tried to remember how to think again. "But?" she finally echoed. He pulled himself up to meet her eyes, and his were filled with that heat she'd glimpsed once or twice before, the brown in them mixing with the gold so quickly it looked like the two colors should blend.

"We don't have to," he finally said, softly. Misty's eyebrows drew together in confusion and he sighed again. "Tomorrow's your last day. After that...after that I don't know, but we won't have to stay here anymore. We can go wherever we want. And we won't have to _hide_ anymore, and we can take our time, and we won't have to _rush_..."

"I'm not rushing, Ash," Misty reassured him, finally gathering herself enough to catch onto what he was saying. She lifted her hand from his back and ran it gently through his hair again. "I just...like you. We can take our time."

"We didn't the other night," Ash argued, looking at her again. "We _rushed_." He stopped, confused by Misty's sudden grin.

"To be honest, Ash, I kind of liked it."

He flushed, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, which of course only made Misty's grin wider. "Not like _that_," he insisted, even if it was obvious by the way his heart had suddenly quickened against Misty's chest that the memory still excited him too. "I don't mean like _that_. I mean...we have _time_. For later. Right?"

The way he looked at her then made Misty's stomach lurch, and any playful thoughts she'd been entertaining quickly vanished. He was scared. Of what, she didn't know, but it rekindled the lump of anxiety in her own gut, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"Oh, Ash. Of course we have time. I just don't think we're rushing anything, since we've already..."

Ash blushed again, and dropped his gaze. He kept his gaze down as he admittedly quietly, "I just don't want to make the same mistakes my dad did."

Misty's chest tightened, but in sympathy and sudden understanding, not anxiety. She gently tugged on his hair until he looked up at her again, then kissed him softly, reassuringly, not trying to ignite anything this time. He sighed as he returned it.

"Sorry."

"For what?" Misty wanted to know.

"For...I dunno. For making you think it was you. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't," Misty promised, sighing herself. "I was just being stupid. But you're not your dad, Ash."

"I know," he mumbled sulkily.

"Good." She kissed his forehead.

He didn't reply for a moment, just tucked his head under her chin and snuggled, which was unusual enough that Misty didn't want to risk shattering the sudden relaxed atmosphere surrounding them by saying anything else. But then Ash's lips moved against her collarbone, and he murmured, "Do you really think we're not rushing anything?"

"No," Misty told him honestly. She felt herself blush, though, the more she thought about it, and was glad he couldn't see. "Well. Maybe a little. But not in the way you're thinking."

"In what way, then?"

Misty shrugged gently, careful not to upset him, and combed some of his unruly hair behind his ears thoughtfully as he shivered. "I don't know. Maybe not at all."

He shifted to look at her again, his chocolate eyes curious with a tinge of something else. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Misty smiled. She felt better, now that they'd cleared that up between them.

Ash grinned back. Misty only had a second or two to contemplate it before he was suddenly rolling them over again, and she found herself resting against his chest. "I guess, then," he said casually, lifting his head to brush his lips along her temple, "if you really don't think I'm rushing you or anything..."

Misty stared at him in surprise. She'd always thought that _she_ was the one rushing _him_, but his eyes held that heated look again, quick little sparks of gold dashing sporadically across the constant swirl. He flushed under her gaze, his own drifting subconsciously down to her mouth.

"You'll be able to see me this time." His cheeks darkened as he said it. Misty felt a growing heat beginning to pool in her own gut. Ash wanted _her_, really wanted her, past his unending physical barriers and everything. The knowledge made her feel warm and comfortable, and not like she was urging a frightened Ponyta to accept a bit.

"Yeah," she breathed, brushing noses. "And we don't have to rush."

Ash brushed his lips against hers, his face a deep, constant shade of red. "But what if I want to?"

His hesitant honesty in something he was still so shy about made Misty kiss him again, hard, and press him back down against the bed. She knew his startled gasp was borne of surprise and not discomfort when his arms came up to circle around her waist, brushing tentatively against the skin there as he pulled her against him. She broke away and grinned down at him, lips twisted into a small smirk as plans to tease him began to form in her mind.

"Then you're just going to have to wait."

**X**

"Then it's settled!"

It was much later Monday night than Rudi would have liked to be out of his rooms, but business was business, and business liked to keep long hours. Giovanni was grinning at him from across the conference table, obviously awaiting some type of pleasant reply, but Rudi couldn't find it in himself to form one. All he could think about was his electric blanket and bed.

"Yes," he intoned dully, "all settled."

The headMaster didn't seem to notice. He clapped his hands together and looked around at the rest of the table. "Good! I'll have the paperwork drawn up, and you can sign it after the final exams tomorrow. The students will be gone by Wednesday night, and we can get to work with the reconstruction Thursday morning. Until then, everyone."

Rudi pushed himself to his feet slowly. He knew he was wasting his money here, and that by signing on to fund anything past the initial reconstruction of the actual portion of the Stadium that actually needed it, Giovanni and Koga were going to slowly run him dry. But it wasn't a public appearance tonight save May Haruka's family, and he couldn't bring himself to act like anything but what he felt at the moment, and that was tired and cold. _Freezing_, really. It had never gotten this cold on his islands.

May tried to catch his attention again, but that was nothing new. Rudi brushed her aside the same way he'd been doing for weeks now, and sighed as he finally managed to slip from the over-bright room and down the darkened hall to his own. He'd been scheduled to attend so many meetings and public appearances lately that he was beginning to wonder what time to himself really felt like again.

Two more days, he had to remind himself. Just two more days, and he could retire back to his archipelago for a few weeks and let Gary destroy everything he'd just paid for in peace.

Or relative peace.

"You look tired, Trovita. Elementals keeping you up at night?"

Rudi turned to see Gary approaching, a grin on his face despite the way it pulled at the marred purplish skin at the corners of his jaw. The doctors had said the toxins would eventually fade on their own, but as of now the markings had barely gotten more than a shade or two lighter than they'd been originally. A vindictive part of Rudi hoped they stayed forever, and kudos to the man who'd put them there.

"Not now, Oak," he warned, his tone brisk. "I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

"Tomorrow's Waterflower's exam," Gary continued as he caught up, as if Rudi wasn't well aware of that already. "Still gonna cheer for her?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well she's got that Elemental of hers locked away in her room," Gary told him innocently. "Surely that's got to be a little..._grating_."

Rudi wasn't in the mood for this right now. He quickened his pace, folding his arms tighter against his chest in an attempt to keep the warmth in. "You know this," he sighed, "and yet you do nothing about it. Stop badgering me like I should."

"_You_ know this," Gary repeated stubbornly, "and yet _you_ do nothing about it. Are you waiting for them to spawn another one before you've had enough?"

A growl slipped from Rudi's throat, and he turned and pinned Gary against the wall in a single, somewhat jerky movement. Gary winced as Rudi's arm and elbow rubbed against his bruised neck, but otherwise only grinned. They'd had this conversation before, and it had ended this way before, and still Gary was egging him on about it. He was quickly losing what frayed patience he had left.

"Back. Off."

Gary shrugged. "I'm just saying."

Rudi let him go, half because they both knew he wouldn't actually do anything, and half because Koga's voice was echoing around the corner just behind them. He straightened his collar over the top of the thick woolen sweater he'd been donning after business hours and strode quickly down the hall again, trying to ignore the way Gary was keeping pace.

"Listen," he was urging, "we've got him right where we want him. He's stuck aboveground, and he actually thinks we're still trying to chase him around down below. I've been _waiting_ because I promised not to get your girlfriend involved, and she's always in there with him, and when she's not it's because he's gone too. You _could_ return the favor by at least _listening_ to me."

"You have yet to say anything new," Rudi drawled. "What are you waiting for, my approval?"

"No," Gary said excitedly, eyes flashing. "No, we want your silence."

At first Rudi thought he'd heard wrong. He actually glanced at Gary as they rounded a corner together, and continued down the final hallway to his room. "My silence?"

Gary nodded. "In a signature."

"For?" Rudi asked, frowning. "You've been quoting me left and right in your damned Elemental news articles, I don't see what shutting me up now will do to help your—"

"You know about him," Gary interrupted, clearly too worked up to wait Rudi's sentence out. "We all do, but we've finally agreed on everything tonight. You're the only variable. We want you to sit down and shut up, no matter what anyone asks."

Rudi stopped outside the door to his suite and turned to regard Gary fully. This didn't feel right. They'd been milking his credibility to boost their own for two weeks now, so that people would actually believe the stories written about the legendary demon hidden in the depths of the building, and now they wanted him to take it all back?

"You want a retraction?"

"No," Gary clarified. "Everything you've said so far is fine. No one thinks you _know_ him, and that's good. Knowing _of_ him is fine, everyone here knows _of_ him by now. But we're going to flush him out tomorrow, make him reveal himself where no one can retract _anything_, and if you talk like you know him personally, people are going to start to ask around."

Rudi's frown deepened the more Gary spoke. "Tomorrow is Misty's exam," he reminded him slowly.

"Second-last of the year," Gary nodded. "After hers and Zolphree's, we'll chase him out. Your girl gets her grades, and we get our Elemental. Everyone's happy. We've got it all set up."

Rudi felt a little guilty hearing this. Gary was finally leaving Misty alone like he'd asked—repeatedly—but it looked like Ash really might be caught this time, and that wasn't going to make her very happy at all. He frowned at his own niggling desire to warn her. Then he realized that if he did, she would skip her own exams just to smuggle Ash out beforehand, and his eyes flew open as he stared in dismay at Oak.

"You're telling me this now so I won't tell her later."

Gary grinned. "Going to risk the last ten years of her education and do it anyway?"

Rudi was speechless for a moment, his own growing anxiety temporarily overtaking him, so Gary continued, his grin turning ruthless. "You're a soft man, Trovita. That much has always been obvious. I know Ash went to see you last week, and I know you've been purposely keeping it a secret from me. I know your feelings for that stupid girl are bigger than your hatred for that demon, but you know what? _Mine_ aren't, and I'm not going to have you and your fits of _heart_ ruin what I've been trying to do for _years_. You'll keep silent about this plan or your girl won't graduate and it'll be _your fault_, and you'll keep silent about everything that's happened between these walls over the last few months, or you'll shoot your own credibility to hell. They want a monster and we'll _give_ them one. If you're lucky, maybe you and Waterflower can finally pick up where you left off."

Rudi's frustrations with the man slowly returned as he spoke, along with an anger that had been building in him ever since he'd learned that Gary had made off with the money from their joint-account. "You're taking a very large risk telling me this at all," he said through clenched teeth. "You know I don't like you, Oak. I think Ash is right about what you're doing. I think you're getting in over your head with this demolition. You're doing it too quickly, and you're letting your own damned hatred cloud your judgment. And now you're trying to rile me up out of _spite_."

"No," Gary corrected with a grin, "not spite. _Gratitude_. I'm telling you because I think you have a right to know. Stay in the stands after Waterflower's Battle tomorrow. Keep her there, so that she can't possibly get in the way. Hell, pretend to help for all I care, _try_, there won't be anything you can do. It'll get you on her good side again, and give you front row seats when we finally take Ash down. Or you can tell her beforehand," he added with a shrug, "and she'll miss her own graduation _and_ be caught trying to help the Elemental escape. How is that decision even _difficult_ for you?"

"Because some of us," Rudi growled, "have a _conscience_."

"And some of us don't care," Gary sneered. "This isn't your fight anyway, it was a stupid mistake on my part to think you'd understand. Ash is _mine_. All I'm offering you is the girl. I didn't have to, you know, I could have let her keep thinking you were helping me get to her boyfriend. Consider it my thanks for your funds and your plans."

"And if I _withdraw_?" Rudi snarled. He didn't like being backed into a corner like this, and now that it seemed a definite possibility, he didn't like knowing he'd had a hand in Misty's ultimate unhappiness.

Gary just shrugged, his eyes unsympathetic as Rudi struggled not to hit him. "Go ahead, I have what I need, and I'm getting what I came for. I'm afraid all bets are in, and you're stuck with the boobie prize."

Rudi couldn't take it anymore. He'd been stretched to his limits knowing Misty and Ash were together all day long, in addition to May's badgering and pressure from the headMasters to sign on with them for another term, on top of all of his regularly scheduled promotions and public appearances, and mixed up with all this damn _cold_. He launched himself at Gary, fully prepared to wring his backstabbing purple neck.

"Misty is not some dull-witted _boobie prize_, you little—"

Something clicked, and Rudi stopped short as he felt the cool barrel of a gun grind almost painfully against his side. Gary was breathing heavily, his adrenaline up in light of Rudi's attempted assault. His eyes flashed as he grinned.

"I don't care what she is to you, Trovita. This is my final offer. Take it or leave it."

**X**

**AN:** I usually don't like notes at the end of my chapters anymore because I think they look unprofessional and I know a lot of people find them annoying, but I intend to _really_ go through and proofread all the chapters and replace them with fresh, untypo-ed ones after this fic is complete, so I don't mind adding one this time. It won't be here for long. Er. Relatively.

One more chapter, folks! And I mean that this time. After that there will be a brief epilogue, and that's all. Period. Forever. inorite. Scary.

I am, however, considering writing a prequel about Cypress, Drake, and Delia's time. I'd like to know how many people would actually be interested in reading it. I know this fic has reached epic proportions, in both size and popularity, and I have you guys to thank for that, especially those of you who have been there from the beginning—you know who you are. If you want more, a prequel is all I have to offer—I know how this fic will end and I won't be stretching it out at all past its completion. So. Let me know. 8)

Another thing is that this fic is so long and there's so much _to_ it, both hidden and obvious, that I'll be releasing a little Did You Know of sorts when it's complete. It's got little things in there that some of you might be interested in, though it's mostly all personal. Things I deliberately paralleled between this story and Phantom of the Opera (_All I Ask of You_, anyone?), and things only I, as the author, really know about (Brock and Rudi were two of the last characters I decided to include).

This note is becoming as long as the fic itself, but I'm nearly done, I promise. Just one more thing to say.

This fic is taking me so long to write because I want everything in it to be perfect. Nothing rushed and nothing forced; everything smooth and as flawless as possible. I consider it my masterpiece. It's the longest, most complex, most fully-developed thing I've ever written, and I want to be proud of it until the very end. That's why chapters take me so long. But honestly, do you know what inspires me to write again and again, no matter how long it's been?

**Your reviews.**

Sometimes I go months without writing anything at all, and then a lone little review will arrive in my inbox and remind me of all my fans out there, and I'll go in and reread my reviews page, and suddenly I'm eager to write more. You guys are what's keeping this story going, and I want to thank all of you for it. No matter how lost I get in my own plot, or how many times I rewrite a scene trying to make it fit, **you guys** are always open in another tab, ready to ignite my confidence again and keep me going no matter how difficult or frustrating the going gets—and trust me, it can get pretty frustrating. I have no less than thirty pages (size 8 Verdana font, .5" margins) of scrapped or rewritten scenes.

So thank you. All of you. I've never finished a chaptered fic before, but I will this one, and it's all thanks to you. I dedicate it to every one of you who's taken the time to write me something, and even to you lurkers out there who read without saying anything at all. I'm just glad to know I'm entertaining you.

And a huge thank you to whoever is linking this to other people. I always know it's happened because my inbox is suddenly flooded with reviews, Story Alerts, and Author Alerts, despite the fact that I haven't even signed in in months. Whoever did it last week gets my own personal thanks. This chapter was written because of you.

-PinkFalcon


	19. What Warm Unspoken Secrets Will We Learn

**Phantom**

**Act iv Stage iii**

_What Warm, Unspoken Secrets Will We Learn?_

**X**

_It was like something out of a nightmare._

If she'd been allowed to use Haraia, everything would be fine. If she'd chosen a sixth, almost any other Pokémon in _existence_, everything would have been just fine. But it wasn't, and she hadn't, and now Misty was down to Totodile—_just _Totodile—against a Mew-cursed _Venusaur_.

She was on the verge of tears.

Around her, the Stadium had fallen nearly silent. Everyone, her opponent included, had expected a Rapidash to materialize from Misty's final Pokéball, not the tiny blue Water-Type that thumped his tail down in the sand and wobbled unsteadily on a pair of comically short hind legs.

"Dile! Totodile!"

The Pokémon's gravelly voice carried easily across the distance between Misty and Master Corey, who finally tore his gaze from the reptile to give Misty a look of sympathy. He wasn't a bad man. Clearly he'd assumed Misty had some semblance of a chance against him with her infamously discolored Fire-Type; it was simply the luck of the draw that they'd ended up on opposite ends of the Grand Arena together, and that his last Pokémon happened to have well over two hundred pounds and a Type advantage over hers.

When she didn't immediately bark out a command, Totodile turned back to look at her. Misty's hand shook as she pressed the button to engage the metal strip in her palm. The empty Pokéball zipped back into it with an uncomfortably loud, echoing clack. Totodile's gaze followed hers to the enormous Seed Pokémon watching them from the far shore. It was so heavy that its four large, taloned feet were slowly sinking down into the thick sand, deep enough to form small muddy pools of water between its toes.

Misty was considering a forfeiture. The humiliation of it burned, and the very idea ground painfully against every competitive bone in her body, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't think of a strategy to overcome this. Totodile would only get massively hurt, and surely saving him from so much needless pain was the right decision? The responsible decision? But she had to win her match in order to graduate. Giving up now would mean returning to the Stadium after winter break for another semester. A year ago that would have been an option—albeit a humiliating one. Now, though...

Thoughts of Ash and Gary and the impending destruction of the tunnels hidden far, far beneath her feet swirled dizzyingly through her mind. It was difficult to focus on clipping Totodile's 'ball back to the 'Belt on her hip; the damn thing just wouldn't _catch_, and she was left feeling slow and clumsy as she blindly clicked them against one another in front of a thousand murmuring spectators. The tears blurring her vision were borne of frustration and self-loathing more than pity, but of course no one around her could possibly know that. She ignored the image of her face on the enormous vid-screen behind her and wiped them furiously away with the back of her hand. This was happening _now_, really? Years upon years of planning and Training and preparations, and it all came down to a stroke of bad luck in the most important match of her _life_? Such a thing wasn't entirely uncommon; many students failed in every exam period because of unlucky Type match-ups, and normally one more semester to study was a good thing, but not for Misty. Not with Ash waiting for her in Brock's room again, watching this broadcast on the television there. Not when he'd _finally_ decided to go with her, and Gary had made it completely impossible for him to stay.

A gentle tug on her jeans broke Misty from her thoughts. She looked down to see a small blue paw there, and a pair of gigantic amber eyes staring up at her expectantly.

"Toto?"

Despite the way the crowd was beginning to shift around impatiently, Misty took the time to crouch down and hook her fingers in Totodile's little webbed claws. "We shouldn't, boy," she told him softly. "Look at that thing. Don't you remember what that Ivysaur did when I first got you? We're not ready to—"

Totodile cut her off with a sharp bark. "_Dile_. Toto."

"But—"

"To, toto." He patted her fingers with his paw reassuringly, then turned and scampered off to disappear with a gentle ripple beneath the surface of the small pond. In the stands, the spectators stirred, watching Misty push herself back up to her feet as her worried look melted into one of determination.

All right. Totodile wanted to do this, and so they would—she wasn't about to force the Pokémon to give up before he was ready, not after all they'd been through together. Across from her, Master Corey's eyebrows were raised, and all around her the crowd was beginning to murmur excitedly. Their confusion quickly gave way to eager anticipation. She was really going to do it. She was really going to let them Battle. Misty could hardly believe it herself, but Totodile knew what he was doing, and she trusted Totodile. They'd spent months working out complex strategies with Ash in Arena Five, new and original ones that utilized Totodile's massively powerful jaws and his duality on both dry land and in deep water; they'd learned new Moves together that could really give the tiny crocodile a fighting chance against this behemoth, if she played her cards right.

Misty's determination blossomed into real self-confidence as she recalled all of those long hours spent with Ash and Pikachu studying every Pokémon in the 'dex. A Venusaur gathered power through the flower blooming on its back; if they could just take out that flower, if they could just immobilize it somehow...

Beneath the surface of the pond, Totodile began to swim in quick, tight little circles. All around him the water started to steam, just barely enough to notice. But Misty did notice, and it brought a wide grin to her face, twisted slightly brazen. This poor frog-lizard had no idea what it was in for.

"Let's do this, Totodile. _Scald_, now!"

The Pokémon disappeared for an instant before bursting up out of the pond in a wave of boiling water that washed over the Venusaur's feet and sent it stumbling backwards in alarm. Above it, Totodile unleashed a powerful stream of water from his snout that struck those bright red rubbery leaves with an agonizing hiss.

The Venusaur roared. The crowd roared. Misty shared a look with Totodile before he disappeared again beneath the boiling water, followed by a pair of lashing vines that quickly recoiled from the liquid in pain. It was hard to see through all the steam billowing up from the pond, but they'd worked this out ahead of time, months and months ago when Misty had wondered when on earth she would ever need to use such a technique. While Corey tried frantically to move to a spot where he could see what was going on, Misty caught sight of a familiar swirl and immediately used this knowledge of Totodile's location to prepare another Attack. Her heart was pumping adrenaline through her system so furiously she felt like she was floating across the sand.

Type advantages be damned, if they couldn't manage to bring down that old dinosaur together, they'd sure as hell go down swinging.

**X**

On the television, the Venusaur's leaves were drooping and wilted. Bah. She'd probably tell everyone later that the Attack was original, something she and the reptile had come up with on their own, but Gary knew better. His poor Dodrio had still carried the burns, back before—

The memory was still a painful one. Gary glared, then pushed himself up angrily to his feet. Beside him, his grandfather looked up curiously, his wrinkled white lab coat threatening to slide off one shoulder. Gary sighed and bent to straighten it over the Mareep pajamas he wore. When it was buttoned up properly it almost looked like he was just an ordinary old man again, one who wrote and programmed entries into a Pokédex, not one who poked at random buttons just to watch the lights flash. If one could ignore the angry red Lichtenberg scar twining up both sides of his throat, that is.

"I've got to go, Gramps. You remember Cypress, right?"

The name evoked a blank stare from his grandfather, but Gary was patient. He waited several long seconds before the Pokédex spoke up from Professor Oak's lap. It had been recorded in his grandfather's voice years before he'd lost it, and the irony was not lost on Gary.

"_Raichu, a Mouse Pokémon of the Electric element. Raichu is the evolved form of Pikachu. It can shock with more than 100,000 volts, and becomes aggressive if too much energy is allowed to build up in its cheeks."_

"You don't say," said Gary with the hint of a wry, crooked smile. His grandfather pressed the button again, then again, his old digitized voice interrupting itself over and over again until Gary pried the device from the old man's gnarled hands and set it on the bed beside him.

"I'm going to get him, Gramps," he told his grandfather, adamant. Although he held the professor's eyes, Samuel Oak only seemed to stare right through him. Gary's resolve only grew, until the disgust and the hate and the excitement pooling together in his gut began to blend into one single, monstrous sense of vengeance. He leaned in to give his grandfather a hug, as beside him one of his hands moved.

"_Raichu, a Mouse Pokémon of the Electric element."_

"I know. But I've got him this time. I promise."

"_Raichu, a Mouse Pokémon_—_"_

"_Raichu, a Mouse Pokémon_—_"_

"_Raichu, a Mouse_—_"_

Gary sighed and took it away from him again while the voice droned on to completion. The professor's eyes were fixed on the television now, blankly. Gary set the Pokédex up on a shelf, out of reach.

"You just stay here and watch that for a while, Gramps. You might see something interesting."

If Samuel Oak heard the infirmary door close behind his grandson, he didn't acknowledge it.

**X**

"Are you sure this is the right time to do this?"

James's voice sounded uneasy as he cast a worried glance back over his shoulder. The television mounted on the wall clearly depicted a battered little Totodile clinging desperately to a Venusaur's stomping foreleg by its jaws. "I mean, look. The Exams are still going on."

"I can _see_ that, you idiot," Jesse snapped from his elbow. She snatched the cell phone from his hands with a huff, fingers flying over the number pad. "I swear, do I always have to do _everything_, myself?"

"I just think it's a bad idea!" James whined, watching her anxiously. "You heard the headMasters! Nothing's supposed to go off until all of the students are gone."

"Which is more important to you, James?" Jesse asked him matter-of-factly: "a little communicative error, or getting our hands on that Pikachu?"

"Um..."

"Wrong answer." She turned her back to him and pressed the phone to her ear, so James shared an uneasy look with Meowth. The cat shrugged.

"Hey, don't look at me, bub. I don't got no say in what you humans do with all 'dem C4 buttons. I ain't got thumbs, remember?" He held up his creamy white paws and wriggled them. James sighed uncomfortably.

"I just get a bad feeling about this..."

"Oh, quit being such a crybaby," Jesse scolded. She appeared again at his side to whack him on the back of the head in mild annoyance, then crossed her arms and glared when he rubbed it and tried to protest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"What do you think? Master Oak knows what he's doing. Besides, the lake is nowhere near the Grand Arena. There's no way anyone would notice a little...a little..."

She trailed off as the floor beneath her boots began to shift, the smallest bit. On the table beside them the dishes began to clink, then rattle. The TV flickered on the wall. Alarmed, the trio exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"_Meowth_. That ain't right."

**X**

The makeshift earth beneath Misty's feet was trembling. She spread her shoes further apart in the sand to remain stable against the Venusaur's assault and continued to call out orders to her Totodile, who looked more like a bright blue rag than a Pokémon as the gigantic green lizard thrashed from side to side, desperate to dislodge him. Blood, tinted a deep, dark green with chlorophyll, had begun to mix with the dirt and sand as it trickled down the Venusaur's legs from a dozen small tooth marks in its pebbled skin.

"Crunch, again! Hurry!"

Totodile's jaws were powerful, but not nearly enough to break the bones of a full-grown Venusaur. Still, his teeth sank even further into that thick, rough reptilian skin, and the Grass-Type voiced its pain with a gurgled roar.

Across the Arena, Master Corey was no longer sympathetic. "Get that thing _off_, Bruteroot! Use your Vine Whip!" Misty gritted her teeth as a pair of dark green vines snaked out of the Rafflesia on the Pokémon's back and wrapped tightly around Totodile's middle, but she'd known this was only a matter of time. When the Venusaur tugged and tugged and finally yanked the little guy away, a good portion of its knee went with him.

The Water Pokémon Flailed, but those vines only lifted him higher into the air and squeezed him tight until he was struggling just to breathe. Without waiting for a command, the Venusaur roared angrily and slammed the poor Totodile down into the ground hard enough to make Misty and the rest of the Stadium wince. It was raising its vines to repeat the action when Corey finally regained control.

"No, boy, _stop_ that! Use Razor Leaf instead! Finish this! Hold it _still_!"

Bruteroot hesitated. It obviously wanted to slam the Totodile down again—and again and again, presumably, for wilting the giant flower mounted on its back beyond use. But it was well Trained, and with an irritated grumble it obeyed its Trainer. The wrinkled Rafflesia trembled, quivered—and with a great grunt of exertion from the reptile, a handful of razor-sharp leaves shook free from its center like snow that had been bumped from the branches of a tree. They floated uselessly down to the ground in a shallow pile.

Corey stared, shocked. Synthesis and Solar Beam were out, of course, he hadn't even attempted to use either of those since Scald had all but boiled Bruteroot's flower alive, but he obviously hadn't known that Razor Leaf's leaves originated from within the Rafflesia's stalk as well. Totodile took full advantage of everyone's confusion to twist his head and Bite down on one of the vines holding him aloft, jaws clamping down _hard_.

Roaring, the Venusaur began to fling him from side to side, vines uncoiling in an effort to get the little 'gator off and away. It made to slam the poor Pokémon down into the ground again, but this time flung it around dangerously close to the beach. Misty's eyes flashed.

"Release it, Totodile! Quick, now!"

Several months ago, Totodile might have hesitated; today he didn't. Without so much as the briefest pause to reorient himself, he unlocked his jaws and went hurtling through the air with the momentum of the Venusaur's toss, only to splash harmlessly into the lukewarm water of the pond. He disappeared beneath the surface with an encouraging roar from the crowd, undoubtedly making for the bottom, where the metal grated floor led to piping that connected this automated lake to the cooler waters of the real one hidden far, far below.

Misty didn't realize she was panting until she took that moment to stand up straight and wipe the sweat from her brow. Poor Totodile was all bruised and scraped up, but then, so was the Venusaur; the rubbery petals of its Rafflesia were curled uselessly, its stalk leaning limply to one side and its leaves continuing to drip warm water down the Pokémon's sides and between its ears. One of its vines was bent crookedly where Totodile's teeth had recently detached, and a hesitant attempt to straighten it was quickly abandoned when Bruteroot recoiled in pain.

"Impressive, Waterflower," Master Corey congratulated her, but the smirk on his face kept Misty from feeling any sort of pride. This Battle was far from over, and he knew it; the flower might have made any Special Grass Attacks useless, but Venusaur's sheer weighty Physical bulk was nothing to sneer at. It shifted its weight in the trembling earth and glared at the pair of bright amber eyes that materialized suddenly atop the steamy water.

Misty was too busy trying to think up a fresh strategy to bother with a reply. So they'd immobilized the flower; now what? This Battle was still between a gigantic green dinosaur and a tiny, unEvolved little Water-Type, and Misty wasn't aware of any other weak spots to exploit.

Unless...

But they'd never actually managed to teach Totodile that Attack, his Level was simply too low to fully grasp it. He'd managed to blow freezing cold puffs of breath out of his mouth once, and when Misty had touched his tongue it'd been flaking ice, but that was nearly a month ago now, and they hadn't had time to try it again since. Then again, his Scald hadn't been powerful enough to superheat an entire pond of water back then, either. Misty clenched her fists at her sides and, heart beating madly, decided to go for it. What other choice did they have?

"Totodile! Remember Ash's Bayleef?"

Totodile's eyes flashed her way curiously. A moment later he slapped his tail against the surface of the water in understanding, and disappeared down again into its depths. Misty held her breath, fingers crossed. Ash's Bayleef had been considerably smaller than this Venusaur, but theoretically—_theoretically_—the effect of ice on their plant-like limbs should be the same.

She wished to Mew that the most important Battle of her life wasn't resting so precariously on a theory, centered around an Attack her Pokémon had never actually managed to perform. At least the crowd was entertained. Misty could barely hear Master Corey over their cheers.

"Get ready, Bruteroot. That thing has to come out of there sooner or later."

Bruteroot nodded, bracing its feet in the sandy bank with a soft growl. "Saur."

Misty gave Totodile as much time as he needed to swim circles around the bottom of the pond and prepare himself. The Venusaur stood prepared as well, its vines arched and ready as it peered down sharply at the water. Misty knew they would likely only have one good shot at this; Vine Whip could easily beat Totodile senseless in a matter of seconds, and then it would all be over. _Everything_. Ash had given up his entire world to be with her aboveground; he was prepared to leave behind everything he knew. And he was watching this, Misty was sure. For once she was glad she couldn't see the look on his face.

But this Battle wasn't about him. This was the culmination of ten years of sweat and blood and tears within the walls of this old Stadium, and Misty had Trained for this moment her entire life—_this_ moment, this one exactly, a Totodile against a damned Venusaur, not some pre-planned, overly rehearsed textbook scenario like some of her colleagues had gotten. This was a match set for a _Master_. She was going to earn that License.

And she was going to win, damn it. Not because Ash was waiting for her to leave with him, and not just to save face in front of the hundreds of people waiting to see what she would do—no. _No._ She was going to win because winning is what she'd Trained all her life to do, no matter the odds and no matter the reasons. This was _her_ fight. Totodile trusted her. Together, they could bring this behemoth _down_.

A sudden splash of water announced the crocodile's location, but an instant later he was gone again. The Venusaur edged closer, craning its head to see. Behind it, Master Corey's voice was cautious.

"Careful there, boy..."

But it wasn't far from the water now; the sand beneath its massive feet actually shifted to sink down into the damp earth, where muddy brown water began to pool. Without warning, Totodile erupted out of the water right in front of it, spinning like a top. Misty saw his intentions and took full advantage.

"Aqua Tail, now!"

The spin became a liquid whirlwind that twined around the Pokémon's short but thick pebbled tail. Totodile called his own name forcefully and used the momentum from his spin to whip his tail flat against the Venusaur's broad face. The water didn't cause much damage to its skin, but careful aim borne of long, exhausting hours teaching Totodile to spin at increasingly small targets finally paid off; the tip of his tail caught in one of Bruteroot's large crimson eyes, followed closely by a torrent of sharp, painful water.

Roaring, the Venusaur stumbled backwards. Its vines changed their course from Totodile's lithe little body to instead rub at its own eyes furiously. Beneath the dark green vines they'd gone all red and puffy, and it struggled to open them and see what its opponent was plotting next.

Totodile let himself fall back to the sand belly-first with a wet-sounding slap. "Hurry!" Misty encouraged, but he was already slithering beneath the stomping dinosaur in a burst of reptilian movement. Opposite them, Corey fumed.

"Earthquake, Bruteroot! Step on it! Hell, just _fall_ on it, the stupid thing is right underneath you—"

Bruteroot did just that, the ground shuddering tremendously as it dropped its four feet out from under it and landed in the damp sand flat on its broad belly. But Totodile was no longer there; he was behind it, spinning around in the mud and opening his jaws wide as he scrambled back toward the newly exposed Venusaur's rump.

"The stalk! Ice Fang! You can do it, boy, go! _Go!_"

The Venusaur struggled to heft itself back up to its feet the moment it felt the light scrabble of paws on its backside, but it was too slow, and it couldn't crane its huge head around to see. Its vines struck blindly in Totodile's wake, but they weren't able to slip around him until there was a bright flash of cool blue light, and then a low, thundering roar from the crowd as a powerful set of ice-cold teeth clamped down tight around the stalk of the Venusaur's flower.

There was another flash then, one that had nothing to do with the Attack. Misty gasped; Corey stared; the crowd went suddenly quiet, then erupted with wild excitement. Within the tight grip of Bruteroot's vines, Totodile's body was expanding, forcing them to loosen and make room. The giant Pokémon groaned anxiously as Totodile's—_Croconaw's_—bite suddenly strengthened, his jaws growing further around the sensitive flower, clenching harder, digging deeper. The Venusaur turned in circles desperately, but it was no use; a Croconaw's teeth were barbed backwards like a fish hook, and notoriously difficult to dislodge no matter how hard one pulled. Trying only caused Bruteroot to groan in pain, its dull red Rafflesia listing heavily to one side with each tug.

Out from around Croconaw's jaws, a thin sheet of ice was quickly spreading. It climbed the stalk of the flower and flowed down to sweep over the Venusaur's back, even going so far as to begin winding up the base of its vines from the points where they connected beneath the weakened, soaking bark. Bruteroot roared and thrashed wildly, suddenly terrified; the Bulbasaur family had been known to die from too much exposure to ice within their flowers, and the freeze from Croconaw's jaws had just scaled the top of the stalk and begun seeping downwards into the center, toward its heart.

"Sleep Powder!" Corey cried desperately, but the dust only puffed weakly out of the top of the flower as if the Venusaur had coughed. Its wide feet scrabbled wildly around in the sand, desperate to turn and yank the offending Pokémon off its back with those vines, but Croconaw refused to budge. In fact, his grip only tightened, until the bark of the flower's stalk began to give way beneath it. The moment Corey's gaze caught on that threatening dip he froze, eyes wide.

"Don't let go, Croconaw!" shouted Misty desperately. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her entire body felt numb and tingly all at once; she thought perhaps that she might faint. Croconaw's jaws tightened again, but this time there was a horrendously sharp crack from between them. The Venusaur roared, then collapsed back down on its belly again, panting. The frost had stretched nearly halfway down the stems of the Pokémon's limp palm leaves, and the entirety of the Rafflesia itself was now coated—not frozen solid, Misty was sure, but uncomfortably, perhaps even dangerously blanketed. And that said nothing of the flower's interior, where the warm, pulsing patchwork of vines began melting into veins.

"Call it off, Waterflower! We're done! We're _done_! Get it off of him!"

At first Misty couldn't hear him, the roaring in her ears was so loud. She didn't know if it was the crowd or her own blood pulsing madly in her ears, her heart pounding so powerfully she was sure it would beat its way right out of her chest. But it was impossible not to miss the frantic look on Master Corey's face as he scrambled across the Grand Arena to his Venusaur's side, completely mindless of the rules that prohibited such a thing. Misty couldn't move. All she could do was stare blindly into the half-lidded eyes of the panting Venusaur sprawled out weakly in the sand, breath puffing from its mouth in cold little clouds.

"That's enough, Croconaw..."

At the sound of her voice, the Pokémon loosened his jaws with a dull, protesting creak from the bark still caught between them. He'd actually dented the stalk, tearing through the bark in small, rough holes where his teeth had sawed through. The Venusaur's vines were still wrapped loosely around his middle, but he was able to easily wriggle his way free of them. Without being told, he pulled his head back, drew in a deep breath, and released it in another stream of Scalding water, this one only warm enough to help melt the ice from his opponent's back. Corey barely gave him a second glance as he scrambled around the Venusaur's side to cradle its enormous head in his arms, rubbing worriedly at its broad forehead.

"Cro, croco."

Misty's knees were weak. They suddenly buckled beneath her, but she didn't even realize it until there was damp sand in her clenching hands, and Croconaw was toddling up to her unsteadily at eye-level, one of his legs dragging where it had been slammed into the ground earlier. Shaking, she held out one arm, the other braced against the sand to help steady herself, and with an exhausted grin the Croconaw collapsed against her chest, trembling.

"I—boy, I am _so proud_ of you, I—"

Her voice cracked and broke. She couldn't finish. Toto—_Croconaw_ didn't seem to mind. He buried his thick snout into her chest with a soft cooing sound, large golden eyes squeezed tightly shut as Misty's warm tears dripped down atop his head.

She'd won. She'd..._won_. Someone may as well have told her she'd inherited the moon; she'd be just as unable to grasp what to do with it.

She'd forgotten completely about her audience, until a flailing brown figure appeared from out of nowhere to slam hard into her side. All three of them went sprawling to the ground in a pile of numbed limbs and weak, shaky hugs, that somehow still managed to squeeze so tightly Misty couldn't breathe. Brock was yelling and screaming and crying all at once, and it wasn't until Misty met his eyes through her own blurred vision that she realized she was, too.

"Naw," Croconaw urged, butting his nose up against the underside of her chin. Brock was running his hands over the tips of the Pokémon's spines reverently and showering him with broken half-praises that he couldn't stop interrupting for newer, better ones.

"And you—and you just—_Mew_, Croconaw! Mew! You just—and the way you just—and the _Scald_! Scald! Ice Fang! A _Venusaur_! It—and you—_Mew! _What? How did you—_Mew!_"

His words were suddenly muffled as he pressed kiss after kiss to the reptile's bruised head, but Croconaw, grinning weakly, only tapped his paw against the 'ball on Misty's hip. Misty smiled weakly in return, and pressed a thank you kiss against the tip of his rounded nose before recalling him to it. Immediately the full weight of Brock's body crushed her into the ground and she laughed, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Everything around her was a bright, colorful blur through all the tears.

She'd won. She'd _won_.

She and Ash could go. They wouldn't have to stay.

She'd _won_.

**X**

It wasn't until Gary Oak slipped into the headMasters' private box and flashed Rudi a snide smile that the islander accepted that something really had gone terribly awry.

Like everyone else in the stands, he'd initially assumed that the gentle trembling beneath his feet was due to the feverish excitement erupting throughout the Grand Arena, as spectators stomped and cheered and shouted themselves hoarse. The Arena wasn't solid stone like the rest of the Stadium; it was a wood and steel addition that had been built into the side some century or so ago, when the building had first been converted from an empty, decrepit old historic structure to a school. While it was certainly more than stable enough for the thousand-some spectators that filled it now, it had never managed to feel quite as sturdy as its unshakable older sibling.

Just like plunging suddenly into the icy winter sea, Rudi was jolted abruptly from his victorious stupor by Gary's presence just inside the door. He was flanked on either side by his help, Jesse and James, while their talking Meowth stood oddly quiet on his hind legs at their heels, his bright amber eyes on the well-groomed Persian draped languidly across her master's feet. Rudi couldn't make out what they were trying to say over the roar of the crowd outside, but Gary seemed uninterested; he waved the pair off, then came to stand at Rudi's side like he belonged there, like he was welcome anywhere _near_ him, let alone within the same room.

"You don't look very happy to see me, Mr. Trovita. Weren't you jumping up and down with the rest of them just a minute ago?"

Rudi had been beside himself with pride and joy when the referees had called Misty's Battle in her favor, but all of that excitement was melting away now into a heavy lump of cold anxiety at the look on Gary's face. Once waving wildly through the air, he now held his hands clenched tight at his sides, tense. He hadn't forgotten what the man had said to him yesterday, how he'd tried to rile Rudi up, then gloated when Rudi had been forced to stay his own hand. He looked smug now, confident in the knowledge that Rudi had obeyed. And he had. Rudi knew he had. He'd had no other choice; before anything, before Ash or himself or Gary's idiotic devil-may-care sense of vengeance, Misty needed to earn her License. She could do nothing more with her life until she'd done that.

And yet he'd almost gone to her late last night, and again early this morning. He'd almost gone to Ash, when he knew the Elemental would be left alone while Misty prepared for her Exam. But what could he do? What could he have said? Would Ash have even believed him if he'd tried? Where would he have escaped to? Had Gary kept an eye on him all night, just in case he did try to pull such a stunt? Rudi had convinced himself earlier that that was probably the case; that Gary had told him those things yesterday so that he would be spurred into harried, brash action, so that Ash would be flushed out right into Oak's hands. It'd kept him awake all night with uncertain worry, but in the end he hadn't gone, and now he was here, cheering Misty on from the sidelines like he was supposed to, counting down the minutes until Gary did something irrevocably stupid.

All he could have done was wait. Let Gary show his hand. Let the idiot make his move. He'd made an enemy of Rudi, and he would come to regret it. Rudi didn't care anymore if Misty preferred Ash to him—although the thought of it still pulled achingly at his heart, made him cringe with loneliness and longing. But no. He would help her—help _them_, if that was the only way—before he would allow Gary Oak to ruin everyone and everything just because he could.

Oak didn't seem to mind seeing himself splattered all over the television screens lining the Arena. No press was allowed inside the headMasters' private box, but that didn't stop them from aiming their cameras at the clear glass facade—Rudi was sure he would see both still and moving images of himself looking like a madman later, when he'd been so caught up in Misty's fight that he'd forgotten anyone was watching. But just then, he didn't care. He couldn't take his eyes off of Gary. There was something about him, something smug and yet attentive; like he'd just pulled his last master string and was now simply waiting to see the results unfold before him.

Gary noticed his gaze and smiled. "What's wrong? Aren't you enjoying the show?"

"What did you—"

Rudi was cut off when the floor lurched abruptly beneath his feet. His hands shot out to grab at the railing in front of the windows before he could be tossed to the ground, as outside the crowd's excited roar lulled into a sharp sound of surprise. Even Gary was caught off-guard; he grabbed at the railing too, his smug look overtaken by one of confusion and alarm. Rudi's heart was pounding somewhere up high in his throat, making it difficult to breathe. Tense, he grabbed Gary's arm and dragged the Master close.

"_What did you do?_"

Before Gary could answer, there was an uncomfortable gurgling sound from within the Arena. Rudi's eyes went instinctively to Misty, though she was buried now by what Rudi recognized to be Brock's extended family, a pile of brown bodies atop a speck of unmistakably orange hair. Everyone's eyes were focused on the freshwater lake that had been filled for Misty's Water Types; the center of it was bubbling upwards, water sloshing excitably against the sandy shore. Without warning, a large metal grate the size of a man burbled up suddenly from the center, bobbing with the churning water. The crowd's murmuring turned anxious, uncertain. It was plain to see this wasn't supposed to happen.

Spinning abruptly, Gary turned to level a narrow glare at his assistants. They were hovering uncomfortably in the doorway, looking nervous. Following Gary's gaze, Giovanni and Koga turned to look at them as well, their expressions demanding an explanation.

"You two!" Giovanni shoved himself to his feet, ignoring the yowl of protest his Persian made at being roused so ungraciously. Koga, too, twisted around over the arm of his leather chair to watch them with suspicion.

"You did this? What did you do?"

"You mangy coward!"

The Meowth ducked out of the way of Jesse's foot to hide behind James's leg, careful to keep it between himself and the Persian now prowling tight, uncomfortable circles around the corner of the room. He pointed up at Jesse. "Don't look at me, it was her! She pushed da buttons!"

"Buttons?"

Jesse looked aghast. She pointed quickly at Oak. "Under his orders. sir! He called, he told me to do it, I didn't just—"

"Do what?" Koga interrupted, now climbing to his feet as well. "What buttons?"

Jesse didn't get the chance to answer. She could only stare, eyes wide, as Rudi wound his fist back and released it straight into Gary's jaw.

The Master stumbled backward. The crowd outside gasped collectively; Rudi didn't even realize that the cameras were watching, he was too busy struggling to see straight through the rage and horror that narrowed everything around him into tunnel vision. Stumbling to catch himself when the box began to shake again, this time he lurched unsteadily after Gary. The pair ended up a painful pile of knees and elbows rolling angrily across the floor. Rudi was hardly mindful of his actions. It was as if every little frustration wrought upon him by Gary Oak swelled up all at once to overtake him; Misty's scorn and that Elemental's favor, his dwindling fortune and that pending lawsuit, the explosives planted beneath a Stadium too old and fragile to withstand the blasts, and all of it piled atop _all—this—damned—cold—_

Large hands cuffed in expensive tailored suits attempted to pry them apart, but neither Rudi nor Gary were willing to give up just yet. A knuckle caught Rudi's eye socket; his vision exploded into bursts of painful light as Gary gurgled miserably, struggling to free his fragile purpled skin from beneath the hand at his throat. From somewhere nearby, Giovanni and Koga pleaded for Mr. Trovita to get hold of himself, chastised Master Oak for acting such an uncivilized fool, but neither heard them. Rudi was furious, and absolutely determined to beat this idiot, this _damned_ arrogant_ moron_, into the ground. Gary, too, was growling, feral. The fists and elbows pounding into Rudi's sides were not those of a man struggling to hold himself in check.

Thumping hard into the solid wooden wall, neither immediately noticed the sharp, panicked note taken up suddenly by the crowd far below.

**X**

Something was wrong. Something was terribly, horribly wrong.

Above Misty, splattered in high definition across the gigantic broadcasting screen, Gary was giving Rudi a nasty black eye. Below her, lapping gently at her knees in the sand, water from the automated lake in the center of the Arena was rising as if in preparation for a sea Battle. But Zolphree's Exam was next, and he didn't use any Water Pokémon. Misty's mind wound itself tightly around that one, insignificant little fact, as if it was the most important thing in the world.

Amidst the cacophony of the crowd and the unnaturally shifting sand beneath her, she realized belatedly that it was.

A gun went off—or so everyone thought. Startled, the crowd cried out and ducked as one, while something huge and metallic came shooting up out of the lake bed close enough to shower Misty and Brock's family with cold, musty-smelling spray. She shielded as many children as she could reach with her arms, while Brock and his parents rounded up the others. No longer elated and jumping up and down in excitement, several of the youngest began to sniffle, looking up around them with wide, worried eyes. The roar that came from the stands was no longer that of a thousand people cheering for more, but had taken on the unnerved, panicked tone of several hundred people trapped in a small space while something unexpected and frightening began to unravel before them.

There was a loud, echoing gurgle sound. Something gentle and soft tugged and pushed lightly at the legs of Misty's soaking jeans. She looked down to see the sand sinking away as if pouring from a glass, only to wash up against her again with a swell of water so powerful it felt like the ocean tide.

Startled, Misty scrambled to her feet. She pulled the children with her, helped them connect their reaching arms with their mother's and father's, who were both right there beside them suddenly, gathering everyone up in a pile of limbs flailing to be caught and held. Like the winking of camera lights at a concert, Pokéballs began flashing open all around them, to reveal a sudden crowd of Flying and Water Types that struggled to stay aloft in such a closed space, or fell down with a splash into the surging water on the ground.

"Brock, you have to get them out of here!" Misty didn't know what was going on, but by the look of things in the headMasters' box, it probably had something to do with Gary Oak, and that was never good. Had he set off all of those damned explosives already? Had something happened with Ash, to cause all of this? _Mew_, what if he'd been waiting for this moment, for this Battle, when he knew she would be distracted and Ash would be all alone...

Panic seized her heart like a vice, pumping ice-cold blood through her veins more chilling than the musty lake water now crawling like a sea of spiders up her legs. Because that's what this was. _Mew_. Something must have happened to the lake; it was coming up now, straight through the ground, through the hollow that had been dug out so that the Stadium could have access to it, obviously far too quickly and too powerfully for any of the pumps to stop.

People were bottlenecking at the exits. Brock struggled to hold up a pair of his smaller siblings out of the water, while beside him his mother and father did the same. High above everyone, the dozen or so vid-screens blinked rapidly from camera to camera, a nightmare of destruction on every single one; water rushing in through the bathrooms on the ground floor, through the kitchens and Water Arenas, flooding the Stadium's halls; outside, whole streets buckling under a sudden surge of pressure, enormous chunks of asphalt crumbling away into a soupy mess of rock and water that spilled up onto the pavement; and the Stadium itself, oh, Mew, the stone statues cracking on the outer facade as the foundations trembled and groaned, whole windows exploding outward suddenly as the old wooden interior began to snap beneath the enormous shifting of its own weight...

Misty tried not to think about Ash, trapped up there on the ninth floor where the rafters were bare and the only real support came from the stone walls they'd been so delicately attached to. The Stadium had been built and rebuilt to withstand age, not earthquakes. Already the entire thing had been a precarious balance of stone walls, wooden support beams, and hollow caves that wound deeply through the rock beneath, like an anthill of old tunnels and passages. Ash had shown her crude maps of what lay beneath the school, and although she hadn't been able to completely wrap her head around such an intricate network of interconnecting lines, he had been adamant enough to sit there and patiently explain them until she'd grasped the gist of it.

It was his job to hold the lake in check, he'd told her. Old passages must be caved in and new ones dug out in order to balance the immense weight of everything that sat above. Air couldn't be allowed to build up; it had to be vented, and fresh air allowed to seep in. Some of the nastier wild Pokémon that lived in the very darkest depths of the earth had to be deterred from wandering aground, and their terrestrial brethren discouraged from ever roaming too deeply. "There's something down there," he'd told her. His eyes had been narrowed, serious, while Pikachu had poked his nose uncomfortably against the back of his neck. But when she'd asked what it was, he'd only shook his head and sighed, looking troubled. He couldn't decide if it was better off flooded by the lake or cut off completely from the stumbling advances of all the humans who would inevitably find their way down there.

The glass windows just below the ceiling shattered suddenly, some from the shifting of the walls between them, and some beneath the explosive power of a Pokémon's attack. Flying Types everywhere had begun to crash their way through in order to chauffeur their Masters outside to safety. Misty squinted up at the sunlight that came pouring in through the gaping holes, hoping to Mew that those lucky few who managed to escape came back to help the rest. If they didn't, the rest of these people...

She didn't allow herself to finish the thought. The water was up to her waist now, and it was beginning to tug her back and forth with its current. Hitched onto either side of her hips, the kids clung to her neck and cried, their weight buoyed by the water. Misty exchanged a horrified look with Brock, who was powerless to do anything but return it. Even if they made for the doors now, they would surely be knocked over and crushed by the tide of people scrambling to get out through them. Some had begun to fall over now, swept from their feet as the water carried them through the doors as effortlessly as bathwater down a drain.

Though Misty's hands went to her 'Belt, she knew that it was no use; she had no Revives left and all of her Pokémon were too bruised and battered to move, else she'd have used more than just Croconaw against Master Corey's Venusaur. Brock seemed to understand, because when she caught his eyes with her helpless gaze, he didn't give her a pleading look. Still, Misty's gut wrenched with guilt and shame.

This was all her fault. If she'd just _left this place_ instead of sticking it out to Battle one last time, maybe she and Ash could be free from here, and Gary wouldn't have tried anything. Maybe then all of these people would be okay, and Brock's siblings wouldn't be crying, terrified...

More glass erupted suddenly from above. Misty looked up to see Rudi leap out the freshly shattered window of the headMasters' box; he fell perhaps a dozen feet before the Pokéball in his hand flared to life and something purple and enormous materialized beneath him. No sooner had he settled onto the back of his Mantine than there was another flash from his hands, one that came much closer this time. Misty struggled to stay upright as the water around her suddenly surged; she clung to the children at her breast and closed her eyes against the splash of water that sprayed over them suddenly, in the wake of the heaving head of an oh-so-familiar Lapras.

Misty thought her heart might burst apart with relief. She looked up to give Rudi a teary-eyed grateful look, but he was too busy sailing by overhead to notice, opening 'ball after 'ball to release a Blastoise here, a Dewgong there, even a Pidgeot that immediately banked in the air and swooped down to snatch up a flailing little girl from the water before she could drown. Brock's mother and father didn't immediately realize that this enormous ocean Pokémon was here for them, not just passing through, but when they saw Misty wade closer so that the Lapras could stretch out its long neck and let a child crawl safely up atop its head, they both gave Misty such heart-wrenching looks of utter relief that it brought fresh tears to her eyes. She was so choked up with relief herself that she couldn't find the words to tell them the Ice Pokémon wasn't hers.

When both children had been safely deposited atop the Lapras's back, Misty patted the base of her old friend's neck appreciatively, giving the Pokémon a look that said more than she knew how to put together with words. Lapras had no time to reply; a man appeared beside her then, panicked. He elbowed his way to Lapras's side and hauled himself atop her back desperately, mindless of the children he threatened to dislodge.

Misty felt a fury bubble to life in her chest so powerful she swore she could see red. While the man still flailed to pull himself up, Misty grabbed him around the ankle and _yanked_; on Lapras's other side, Flint suddenly appeared atop the Pokémon's back amidst a flurry of outrage. Heaving, he tossed the man back into the water as if he weighed no more than a child himself. Above Misty, Lapras leveled the sputtering man with a vicious glare the moment he broke the surface again, daring him to try such a selfish move again.

"No, stay there. Dad, please."

Misty turned back to see Brock holding his hands up, attempting to prevent his father from dropping back down into the heaving water. Flint was not happy. Wiping the water from his face, he reached for Brock's final sibling, but leaning so far over Lapras's back nearly capsized them. The Lapras flailed and pounded her fins into the water on either side of Misty with so much force that she was sent tumbling backward amidst the sloshing waves. But she was a Water Trainer, damn it; rather than panic, she quickly righted herself in the water—

And blanched at the sight before her. Though the water wasn't yet deep enough to cover her head, everywhere within it people kicked and struggled to remain at the quickly rising surface, or to climb aboard whatever Pokémon was nearest. Below, underwater Pokémon struggled to act as buoys for their owners, and further below them still lay a wide, gaping black hole where the Grand Arena's floor vents used to be.

Misty shuddered at the sight, quickly swimming back up to the surface before fear could seize her completely. Water Trainer or not, the sight of such an immense, immediate drop into the unknown, into sheer black nothingness, was enough to leave her shivering and unnerved. But the moment she broke the surface again, the roaring din of the terrified crowd nearly deafened her. The sound was enough to snap her out of her sudden anxiety, and unexpectedly, through the water in her ears, she thought she heard someone call her name.

"—here! Misty, look here! Look up!"

She did. Rudi was back, his PokéBelt twined tightly around one arm, nearly empty. Blood dripped from a cut on his lip to splash atop the back of his enormous Mantine, who was concentrating hard on lowering herself as closely as she could to the water without allowing any of the people nearby to swamp her. Relief flooded through Misty at the sight, so overwhelmingly powerful that she nearly slipped beneath the surface again, her limbs gone all weak and wobbly. She didn't want to go out like this, sucked down a corridor or tossed from the top of the Arena like a ragdoll. She had things to do now, she was a _Trainer_, a real one, well on her way to becoming a Master in her own right, and Ash was somewhere up there in the Stadium, waiting...

Rudi reached out for her. "Give me your hand." And Misty nearly did, she almost let herself snatch his hand up without a second thought, but at the last moment she hesitated. Her eyes darted back to Brock's family; he, his mother, and his oldest younger sibling were clinging to Lapras's side with fear in their eyes, while his father raised his fist threateningly at anyone who dared give the floating Pokémon topped with children so much as a considering glance.

Rudi followed her gaze. When he turned back to catch her eyes again he looked trapped, helpless; Misty suspected she looked much the same, regret already filling up that ever-gaping hole in her chest. She opened her mouth to explain herself, to argue, but rather than insist she climb up beside him, Rudi only frowned. He looked at Brock's family again. Without a word, his gaze hardened and he withdrew his hand.

Mantine glided smoothly over in their direction. Misty watched as Brock's mother gave Rudi a teary-eyed look, one that he largely ignored as he instead helped haul Brock's last little brother atop the Pokémon's back beside him. But the Pokémon, though large, was a Flyer, and couldn't hold half as many as the floating Lapras if she wished to remain aloft. This time Rudi didn't hesitate; the moment the child was settled comfortably atop Mantine's back, he slipped down her ribbony tail into the water. Misty gaped at him in surprise; she didn't know whether to hit him over the head or squeeze him in a hug so tight his eyeballs popped, so wordlessly she watched him help Brock's mother climb up the Mantine's rounded, slippery wings. Mrs. Slate immediately grabbed her son up in her arms, hugging him tight with the fierce relief only a mother could muster. Down below, Brock gave Rudi a look that had no words. Rudi just shook his head at him, treading water as easily as if he'd been born in it. Misty couldn't tell if her face was wet with lake water or unshed tears, and truthfully, she didn't care. She would never be able to repay Rudi for this, never in a million years. She didn't even know where to begin trying.

Not that she got the chance. Up on the television screen, a thumping helicopter shot of the Stadium showed whole portions of its interior and ceiling collapsing as if they were made up of nothing more stable than cardboard and crumbling limestone. Misty's stomach dropped into her feet when she saw what looked like the dormitories, only...they weren't dormitories anymore, but a twisting, mangled heap of wood and pipes and half-crushed furniture, like the wreckage in the aftermath of a bombing, without the smoke or fire.

Something groaned, loudly and ominously, from somewhere far below Misty's feet. She looked down, but could see nothing beyond her own kicking, waterlogged shoes. Above, Rudi's Mantine carried her portion of Brock's family up to the relative safety of the roof while his Lapras slowly scooped water over her flippers in an effort to keep herself from drifting near any of the other terrified-looking people around them, mindful of the way Misty and Brock both clung desperately to either side of her shell. But whatever was going on below was not good, as was evidenced by the way the water suddenly lurched with a gurgling groan so loud and deep that it vibrated through the water all around her. Terrified of that sound, Misty pulled herself up closer to the Pokémon and curled her legs protectively up underneath her, eyes struggling to focus on the large black hole in the floor through the sloshing water. She didn't like that sound. Something down there was wrenching apart, and she didn't like the thought of it being kicked up or of her being sucked down.

Unexpectedly, a large hand caught Misty around her waist and pulled her back against an equally hard chest. Misty twisted to see Rudi holding onto her, but for once she didn't mind. He'd found a patch of shell to hold onto beside her, though he shivered beneath his soaking silk shirt, as if the chill of the water pierced him all the way to his bones. Misty felt much the same, although being near her old friend helped her keep her mind, even amidst the chaos of everything around her. Nothing that had happened between them these last few months mattered at all anymore; Rudi was one of her best friends, her anchor, her calm in the storm, just as he had been when their parents had died together, and just as he'd tried to be again recently, when he'd been unable to comprehend that an Elemental might be something more morally complex than the old stories allowed. She allowed him to hold her close, taking comfort in his presence, if only for a moment. When she looked at him, wordless, he looked back. His teal eyes were filled with things Misty didn't know the words for, but above all they were filled with the same things she felt: regret, apology, concern.

And then he spoiled it all with a sad look. "You should have gotten on that Mantine."

Misty stiffened suddenly. If he thought for one minute that her life was more important than Brock's little brother's—that she would have boarded that Pokémon while a _child_ flailed helplessly in the water—If he thought—he—

Rudi smiled tiredly and pressed his fingers to her mouth to stop her from speaking. "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

He looked so defeated that Misty felt her anger drain from her as quickly as it had welled up. She gave him an apologetic look, but he only moved his fingers from her lips to her forehead, tucking aside a stray strand of orange hair that had been dripping water into her eyes. When she shivered at his touch, he sighed softly, eyes on the hand that caught his wrist to keep him close. This time it was Misty's turn to apologize.

"Me too."

He looked at her. Misty's heart broke at the shard of hope in his eyes—but then the water began to shudder again, as if the entirety of the Grand Arena was caught up inside some vast shaking pot. Lapras flipped the tips of her flippers uncertainly, mindful of the humans clinging weakly to her sides as the water suddenly tugged and pulled at their feet, almost as if they were caught in a riptide.

Misty saw it, then; the dark black space that had been what remained of the drain was widening, its sides crumbling away beneath the overwhelming weight of the water piling up on top of it. And Misty knew how cavernous that bedrock was beneath the Stadium, how many old finished and unfinished tunnels there were, as well as simple pockets and vast open caves with entrances so small only bats and rats and an Electric mouse could squeeze their way inside. It was only a matter of time until—

Her shoe was yanked down hard, her ankle twisted painfully. Misty cried out in alarm and tried to jerk it back up, fingers scrabbling for a solid hold on one of Lapras's slick spines. Beside her Rudi latched onto her elbow and heaved her upward, though his strength was muted considerably without any solid ground beneath his feet. On the other side of Lapras's back, Brock suddenly went down as well. Misty cried out for him, but it was his father who reached over the Pokémon's back to haul him back up out of the water, coughing and sputtering with dripping water into his eyes. Misty, too, struggled to catch her breath back after such an unexpected assault, but then the building whirlpool must have made its way around the Arena, because it happened again, stronger. Misty fought to keep her grip on Lapras's shell; beside her Rudi struggled as well, long legs kicking desperately at the invisible pull of the water just beneath them.

Keening, Lapras raised her flippers suddenly and began to swim across the giant lake, away from its center. Misty spat out the water in her mouth and clung to the Pokémon beside Rudi, but she knew it was no use. Learning the physics of whirlpools and vortexes had been a part of her studies as a Water Trainer; she understood exactly how they formed over quickly rushing water as it was pulled downward into a new space, how the spiral was so powerful a Water Pokémon would have a hard time breaking free from it, how a lowly human, so ill-equipped without any land to leverage against, was virtually powerless within its grasp...

The Lapras, laden with so much weight, struggled to break free before she could be caught up in its grasp as well. Misty might have let the Pokémon go if she'd had the choice, but before she could even think of such a thing, her hands slipped from Lapras's spine as her body was ripped from Rudi's side, downwards beneath the surface, where there was no more air to breathe.

In a manner of seconds, Misty was flung up and down and sideways so rapidly that she had no idea which way was desperate, beloved air, or even what it was anymore. Strange hands grappled for a hold on her arm—not strange, she realized dizzily, they belonged to Rudi, and behind him Brock clung to his ribs like he was squeezing a stuffed animal in his sleep, eyes squeezed tightly shut and kicking at invisible foes beneath him. Misty grappled for Rudi as well, struggling to find a hold on slick skin that was pulled this way and that as the water rushed and roared all around her.

And then it was dark, and they were no longer alone. Strangers, Pokémon and people alike, whirled around them like lifeless debris caught in the fury of a raging tornado. One of them came too close; Misty's head struck something hard, her fingers loosening their grip in alarm, and then she was flung to the side and slammed furiously against something that felt suspiciously like solid, uncut stone.

Her head spun viciously; her stomach rolled with nausea. Then the blackness swallowed her whole, and she tumbled down far, far below the last vestiges of straining light.

**X**

Ash awoke to a gentle dripping on his face, and a not-so-gentle throbbing in his skull. His back was cold—no, he recognized dimly, it was numb, soaked through with freezing water. A shallow pool lapped delicately at the tips of his ears, threatening to creep inside. The slightest movement sent shallow waves rippling out across the surface. Where _was_ he?

At first he wondered if he was blind. Everything around him was dark, pitch-black—and then he noticed the light bobbing unsteadily in the top corner of his vision, a pale yellow beam that soaked lazily through the deepest of the shadows. It swept over him suddenly and he winced, lifting a stiff and aching arm to shield his eyes. Someone cried out at his movement.

"Holy Ho-Oh, he's alive!"

The beam of light swept over him again, and then again, unsteadily. Ash squeezed his burning eyes shut and hid them beneath the crook of his arm, twitching his nose at the cold water that dripped from the numbed skin of his elbow down onto his face. His head throbbed so severely that he could scarcely think around the pain, and something hard was jabbing sharply into the small of his back, against his spine. At so much movement, though, the lapping water sloshed up suddenly into his ears, momentarily deafening him. He jerked his head out of the pool in alarm. What followed was a crippling tide of nausea and dizziness, alongside a quickly strengthening sense of regret. He should have stayed on the ground. He felt like he'd been trampled beneath a herd of raging Tauros. It was a struggle just to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged.

"Hey you, guy! Can you hear me? Look up here!"

The light was dim, feeble. A dying flashlight. It wobbled at him, trying to catch his attention; Ash swallowed down the sickness in his throat and peered up in its direction cautiously. There was a boy holding it far above him—a ninth year, Ash recognized with a start, the one with the shaggy Pikachu. Panic seized him; he reached instinctively for his glasses, only to slap his palm painfully against the side of his nose. Oh, no. Oh, Mew. He swiped his hand beneath the freezing water in a futile attempt to find them, to find _anything_, but it came up empty. Ash twisted around to search behind himself with a low groan. Had he dropped them? Had they fallen off? When was the last time he'd _worn _them?

"Hey, look! Can you see me? Can you see this?"

The flashlight shook at him, forcing him to respond. So Ash looked, cautiously, from beneath his arm, swallowing down the building sense of heavy vulnerability threatening to bubble up from his gut. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd been forced to bare his eyes to a stranger, but at least it was dark enough, and they were far enough apart, that he was fairly certain the boy wouldn't be able to tell anything was amiss.

The boy with the flashlight aimed it up suddenly to illuminate himself. Ash knew of him already, but said nothing. He'd learned the hard way that people hated to learn that they'd been watched.

"I'm Ritchie, I was up on the tenth floor. Are you okay? We saw you fall. We didn't think you made it."

Ash swung his gaze to Ritchie's sides, startled by the Trainee's use of the collective. Sure enough, the boy wasn't alone; flanking him were a handful of shadowed figures, all peering down at him with obvious concern from over the lip of what appeared to be a dormitory bathroom. Clinging to the wall by its piping, a crumbled porcelain sink shot water out of a crack in its tap, further obscuring them in the darkness. It rained softly down atop the water that surrounded Ash, forming tiny, gentle ripples. It was then that Ash truly became aware of his surroundings. His eyes widened and he looked around himself in alarm, his heart suddenly pounding. This was…but he'd been in _Brock's room_. What happened? Had he been knocked out?

"Here, hold this a minute, will you?" Noticing Ash's confusion, Ritchie passed the flashlight off to a younger student, one with the shape of a fluffy Pikachu-sized shadow on his shoulder. Ash squinted at the wavering light and made out the form of an Eevee there, only by the unmistakable shape of its neck ruff. Michael, he recognized. The boy had every known Evolution of Eevee, as well as his prized unEvolved one. He held the light steady while Ritchie picked his way down an enormous mound of ceiling tiles, broken support beams, dormitory furniture, and ceramic flooring. Looking up, it seemed to Ash as if a good chunk of the entire floor had fallen in. But the room above him wasn't Brock's, nor, as far as he could tell, was the room above that. Zapdos, just how far had he fallen? Had there been an earthquake? Or had Gary…

Ice-cold fear slipped down his spine. Oh, Mew. _Had_ he? _Now?_ What—But how _stupid_—And why—

Ash had to stop and steady himself when his head began to throb with a mixture of horror and fury, and probably the remains of a sizable concussion. He struggled vainly to piece together what had happened, what order his fractured memories of deafening cracks and tumbling colors fit together in. He had obviously fallen, but how far? And how long ago? Where was everyone? Had Pikachu been with him?

He was so caught up in his thoughts and in the aching pound in his head that he didn't immediately realize he was no longer alone. The water splashed suddenly against his knees though, quickly soaking through his jeans and chilling him to the bone. A splashing sound announced Ritchie's presence at his side. The boy reached to help Ash up off the ground, but Ash flinched away, alarmed. Mew, when had he gotten so close? Had he seen…? He ducked his head and aimed his eyes low to the ground, panic flaring to life in his chest. Raikou above, he should have slipped away into the shadows when he'd had the chance. It was just so difficult to think clearly, and he had the sneaking suspicion he'd been knocked in the head hard enough to disorient himself. And he couldn't leave this area without Pikachu…

The scritch of tiny claws on wood sounded suddenly from the pile of rubble that Ritchie had just climbed down. Both looked up in surprise as a pair of floppy yellow ears were shoved through, their normally black tips colored grey with dust. Pikachu squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head furiously, wriggling back and forth with a soft scratching sound until he managed to wedge the rest of his body out from beneath the shattered bed frame there. He came to rest on the broken spine of a textbook that jutted out from beneath the shallow water, gripping it tightly in his paws and careful not to slip as he shook his fur out irritably with a soft "Chuuuuu."

"Whoa, is that—?"

Ritchie's voice startled the mouse, but there was no fear in his enormous chocolate eyes as he stopped shaking and stared up at the boy. Not a moment later, however, his gaze slipped behind Ritchie to where Ash lay half-prone in the water behind him. His ears perked up immediately, and then he disappeared in a flurry of movement.

"_Pikapi!"_

"_Whoa_, what—"

Ritchie stumbled backwards in alarm when the small yellow bundle used his shins as a springboard to launch himself directly into Ash's welcoming arms.

Ash squeezed the mouse tightly the instant he caught him, relief flooding through him. He was okay. He wasn't crushed, he wasn't drowned, he wasn't...buried somewhere, beneath all of this rubble. If the rest of the world had fallen to pieces around them, at least there was that. There was Pikachu. There always had been.

"Whoa, nice! You have a Pikachu too?"

Ash glanced up just long enough to see Ritchie grinning widely at him, before he remembered there was nothing over his eyes and quickly ducked his head again, cursing the way they tended to glow when it was dark. He pressed his lips to Pikachu's damp fur, speaking softly, hoarsely: "Do you have my sunglasses, boy? Do you know where they went?"

"Chuuuu." Pikachu rubbed his nose apologetically against the hollow of Ash's throat. Ash sighed, his stomach twisting with worry. If one of these students saw him, if one of them recognized what he really was...

_Who_, an irritable Misty corrected him. Ash scratched the top of Pikachu's head and tried not to smile, even as his lungs suddenly froze up with anxiety. Was Misty okay? She'd been Battling for her License, and then...and then what?

"Mine's named Sparky," Ritchie was telling him cheerfully, oblivious. "Does yours have a name?" Ash grit his teeth and shook his head, feeling simultaneously irritated and guilty. This guy was nice, Ash had watched him Train and Battle for years now. He was obviously just trying to help out, but if he saw...

If Ritchie minded Ash's silence, he didn't comment on it. Instead he reached out to try to help him up again, mindful of the Pikachu in his arms. Ash curled instinctively into himself, the water sloshing coldly against his jeans, but Ritchie ignored it and helped haul him up to his feet by his elbow, steadying him when his aching legs threatened to give way and spill him back down to the ground.

"Easy, there. You fell three floors, did you know that? You didn't move for an hour. We thought you were dead. There are some others..." Ritchie trailed off uncertainly. Rather than let him continue along that uncomfortable vein, Ash gave him a quick, careful look before returning his gaze to Pikachu's body, fingers ruffling through his fur in search of injuries.

"What happened?"

His voice came out a grating croak. Pikachu nuzzled his throat soothingly, cooing. Beneath Ash's fingers, his little body trembled. Ash stroked him in all of his favorite places, desperate to comfort his friend, to make sure he was really okay.

Gesturing for Ash to follow, Ritchie paused long enough to make sure he could walk on his own before leading the way back to the pile of rubble he'd climbed down. "We don't know. An earthquake, maybe? We were all up in our rooms, and everything just kind of...collapsed. It's really hard to get around and see what everything looks like, and every now and then something else falls in. We've been looking for more people caught up here like us, who are still okay, but...so far, this is it. I think most people were downstairs watching the Exams."

Ash pretended not to notice the grim tone to his voice. Glancing upward, he could just make out the silhouettes of two or three heads beyond the dying flashlight, watching. Four people? It was wishful thinking to hope that, out of the Stadium's massive student body, only four people had been hiding out in their rooms. Gritting his teeth firmly, Ash struggled not to think about it. Instead he tried to piece together what had happened. That was no earthquake; Ash had felt himself at the receiving end of enough of those to know. Only one other possibility came to mind.

Gary Oak.

Illuminated in the light of the beam, Ritchie's jeans looked torn and dirty. He stumbled once, when his shoe slipped on the smooth surface of a mini refrigerator, but Ash caught his wrist and helped to steady him before he could lose his balance and fall.

"Hey, thanks."

He tried to offer Ash a grateful smile, but Ash had already shied away, his eyes on the path in front of him. Pikachu clung to his shoulder, out of the way, while he climbed. "This way," he grunted simply, sensing the boy's confusion. Ritchie was intelligent and good with his Pokémon, Ash knew, but he wasn't experienced in the intricate work of climbing unstable objects—not like Ash was. He slowly led the way up a sturdier path than the one Ritchie had been taking, and gratefully seized the opportunity not to have to look in his direction, or to come too close.

These people didn't recognize him, and didn't have a clue who it was they were helping. Ash didn't want to think about what could happen if they did. Good Samaritans or not, it was Ash's experience that "goodness" only extended so far.

Despite the slow going, Ash had to pace himself so that Ritchie could keep up behind him. It wasn't a terribly great distance to climb, but even bruised and sore, Ash was used to such a workout, his body toned and well-acquainted with the upward movement. Things jutted out at awkward angles, a textbook here and a broken television there, and exposed electrical wiring seemed to twine around the lot of it. Ash didn't have to worry about touching the broken wires, but he was aware that one misstep could fry the boy behind him from the inside out. He opted to give them a wide berth, even if Ritchie couldn't immediately understand why.

"Good job! There you go, here..."

Welcoming arms reached out to help Ash heft himself up over the final ledge, a dangerous wall of sharp, broken timbers, wires, and plumbing. Ash flinched away from their touch, anxious discomfort wreaking havoc in his gut, but there was no escape; half a dozen hands gripped his shoulders, his arms, his sopping shirt, and heaved him up to safety. No one seemed to notice when Ash danced immediately away from them, Pikachu nuzzling reassurances into his ear; they were already busy hefting Ritchie up. The boy was struggling to make it, considerably out of breath.

Now that he could see clearly, Ash recognized everyone in the makeshift little group. The girl with the dyed green hair and the purple scarf wrapped tightly around her arm was Duplica, one of Misty's acquaintances; she specialized in Ditto so impressively that even Ash was fascinated by her technique. Michael—he liked to be called Mikey, Ash remembered—looked miserable beneath a head of sopping wet hair and a shallow gash through his eyebrow. And the last—Ash froze when he saw that shaggy blonde hair, looking curiously untamed without the sash he normally wore.

Master Mortimer leveled lazy lavender eyes at him the moment Ritchie was safely on the ground. Above him, only just recognizable in the gloom, loomed a pair of disembodied eyeballs, deep crimson and narrow. They caught Ash's gaze, and held it. Ash felt the blood run cold in his veins.

He knew those eyeballs well. Morty's Gengar had feasted on Ash's nightmares more than once as a child, back when he'd been just a lonely, starving Gastly, and Ash hadn't known the difference yet before Ghost-Types and the real thing.

Morty's gaze swept from Ash to the mouse perched on his shoulder, then drifted away again without saying anything. Ash exchanged a mortified look with Pikachu, panic threatening to seize him again. He hadn't spoken to Morty in _years_, certainly never without his sunglasses on, but surely Morty knew. He had always been eerily intelligent, eerily calm and soft-spoken. He noticed things the other Masters didn't, the in-betweens and the secret goings-on throughout the Stadium that everyone else loved to ignore. He was only a few years older than Ash, but he, too, had been here his entire life, raised under the careful tutelage of his grandmother. Ash had enjoyed his company when the both of them were young and naïve, but, at his uncle's request, had begun to avoid Morty when he'd started asking uncomfortable questions. There was no doubt in his mind that Morty knew what he was now, years later. Given all of the rumors spreading like wildfire through the Stadium lately, and even the picture of him they'd published in that damn newspaper, he would have to be an idiot not to.

Ritchie was leaning heavily on his knees, struggling to regain his breath. Besides Morty, he was the only one not eyeing Ash curiously. Pikachu scratched gently at the back of his neck before sliding liquidly into his arms with a soft coo. Ash used him as an excuse to avoid the force of their combined gazes, especially when the beam of the flashlight settled on him, casting him in stark relief while the rest of them were blanketed in unrecognizable shadow.

"Hey, don't do that. You're blinding him." Finally straightening, Ritchie reached to take the flashlight back. When it sputtered out feebly he whacked it against his wrist with a mild curse until it reluctantly flickered back to life, He waved it at the door that lead out of the remains of the bathroom they were standing in. "We should keep looking for people, this light isn't going to last forever." He nodded at Ash. "If this guy could survive a fall like that with just a lump on the head, maybe others could, too."

"There are no others."

Everyone turned to look at Morty while Ash rubbed at said offending lump tenderly, wondering what, besides the floor, had struck him. The Master's voice was soft, but decisive. Mikey looked perturbed.

"What do you mean? How can you know?"

"It's probably better not to ask, kid."

Duplica's skin was pale, even in the dying light. Ash noticed the way she was clutching at her arm, where Morty's headband, wrapped tight and topped with a lopsided bow, was beginning to soak through with dark black blood. Everyone was covered in nasty-looking bumps and bruises, a few cuts, a few rips in their clothing, but nothing terribly bad, considering. Ash didn't like thinking about how many people hadn't been so lucky. His stomach rolled over uneasily.

Mikey looked like he wanted to object, but he was distracted when his Eevee thrust its head up underneath his chin, wanting to be scratched. Ash's eyes sought out the Gengar again, suddenly uncomfortable. No, it was probably best not to ask the Ghost Master how he knew that no one around them was alive.

Everyone was silent for a long moment, as the implications of such a statement sank in. Ash had a hard time fathoming the damage that had just been done, the number of casualties lying crushed beneath all this rubble, the trapped Pokémon, all those hundreds of people in the Grand Arena...

His breath caught in his throat, suddenly ragged. Misty was there. But the Arena itself wasn't part of the Stadium; it sat atop the same stone foundations, but wasn't trapped within its walls like everything else was. Maybe it hadn't fallen? If Gary set off those charges—if he'd blown up the entire underground early just to get to him with all of these people around—

The thought made Ash sick, but he plowed on, his fingers tightening in Pikachu's fur. If they'd gone off, that meant the stone beneath the Stadium was gone. It was probably sunk deep into the lake by now, and the lake water...

The lake water...

Ash strode to the edge of the bathroom and peered down at the pool still gathering on the floor below. It had risen considerably since he'd climbed out of it; if he hadn't woken up when he did, he might have drowned. He looked up sharply at the small group watching him, but they were too clear, too bright—he quickly lifted his arm to shield his eyes again, before anyone could notice that damned telltale glow. Only barely peeking out from beneath his elbow, he asked, "Where is all that water coming from?"

Ritchie and Duplica exchanged confused looks, but Mikey only shrugged. "I woke up in it too. It's everywhere."

"Not above us," Ritchie interjected. He pointed at what remained of the ceiling. "I was up there when everything collapsed. There's no water anywhere."

"The Grand Arena is under water," Morty spoke up softly. Ash risked a glance in his direction; he was watching Ash carefully, a measured look in his eyes. Ash didn't know what he was searching for, but he seemed to sense it, because he went on. "At least, it surely is by now. The water was still rising when the power went out. I'm sure whatever isn't coming up directly from the ground here is spilling in from there."

He seemed to understand that the lake was flooding. Ash didn't know how—he'd never understood how Morty knew the things he did, and hesitated to ask. Beside him, Duplica shuddered.

"Misty's Exam was today. I hope she's okay."

"Everyone was down there watching today," Ritchie added. "It was the last day of Battles."

"Not everyone," said Mikey softly. He looked scared. "Mew. Where are all the people?"

No one wanted to answer that. There was a tense silence, one that wracked Ash with guilt. He'd done this. He'd directed the Pokémon living below to rearrange the charges in an attempt to preserve as much of the Stadium—and, in turn, the city around it—as they could. He'd thought he was being clever, moving all of those explosives to the lake; he'd thought, by flooding all of the tunnels and concentrating the destruction to a single area rather than blowing out the entire underground, that perhaps the old building might remain standing. But the Pokémon had been far from finished; moving explosives was delicate work, made even moreso by a lack of opposable thumbs and color vision. And Ash hadn't been able to supervise _everything_, not without going down there himself, and then he would never have been able to come back up...

Pikachu tugged at the front of his shirt worriedly, trying to catch his attention, but it was no use. Ash knew he was the one responsible for this. If he'd just planned everything out better, maybe if he'd anticipated Gary's intentions instead of assuming he really meant to wait until all of the students were gone...Ash squeezed Pikachu tightly to his chest, swearing softly. Nausea bubbled to life in his gut and in his head, making him sway on his feet unsteadily. Perhaps the Stadium might have collapsed either way—perhaps the bedrock underneath was just too frail and filled with pockmarks and old tunnels to support it anymore, and there was nothing he could have done to prevent such a disaster short of dismantling each and every one of those explosives himself. But then again, perhaps if he'd done nothing at all, if he'd just left Gary alone to plant his charges and stick to his plans, the lake would still be there instead of here, and only Raikou knew where else. Perhaps Gary would have inadvertently collapsed some of those deeper, darker caverns on his own, effectively sealing them off from any probing excavations. Because that had been the original plan, flawed as it was. Move the charges down deeper, allow the lake to spill in and flood all of the passageways that led to the areas he'd been closing off all his life, leave the home of his ancestors inaccessible, unexploitable—

_Irreparably destroyed_, he finished grimly, but such thoughts weren't new. It'd been a sacrifice he and Pikachu had decided, at great length, to make, rather than to risk opening the whole thing up to be plundered by the headMasters, his family's ancient possessions sold to the highest bidder at some enthusiast's auction house. It's been bad enough watching them pawn off the trinkets he kept in the upper rooms; what would he have done if they'd found the Stone underneath?

This way was more dignified, wasn't it? But no one else was supposed to be involved. Mew, Ash had never once considered that Gary might blow the charges so _early._ He'd warned him a dozen times that the whole building would come crashing down on his stupid head if he wasn't careful, and had he listened? _No_. He'd just gone and killed Mew-knew how many innocent people, kids, Pokémon...

Ash's hand shot out to catch himself on a half-crushed cabinet before he could lose his balance and fall. Startled, Pikachu called his name crawled up his chest, worry in his eyes. Ash barely noticed. Zapdos...had he done this, all of this? How could he have been so selfish, so foolish?

"Pikachu, Pikapi?"

"Hey, are you all right?" Ritchie took a step toward Ash, concern evident on his face, but Morty placed a hand on his arm to stop him. He stepped forward instead, his eyes focused sharply on Ash, voice low and even.

"You know the structure of this place better than anyone. The outer walls are solid stone, the inner were gutted decades ago for remodeling and renovations. Which do you think will give in beneath the weight of the water first, the rock or the wood?" He took a step closer, his voice taking on a sharp edge. "Was this Master Oak's plan, or yours?"

Ash felt his throat go dry, even as bile rose up thickly in the bottom of it. Ritchie swept the beam of the flashlight over him again, forcing Ash to release the cabinet and cover his eyes if he wanted them to remain unseen; without the support of the cabinet, he wobbled unsteadily. Pikachu scratched at his neck, eyes wide. Ash was struggling to breathe.

"I didn't—This wasn't—"

_Things weren't supposed to happen this way!_

Then again, when did they ever? His entire life had to be someone's idea of one big, sick cosmic joke. Spend two thousand years protecting this place, only to be the one to destroy it. Kill everyone you ever knew. Watch all the people under your care turn on you one by one—and with good reason, too. So Mortimer knew who he was—what he was—and he obviously grasped enough of the situation to recognize who was to blame.

"Why were you in the dormitories?" Morty's voice had taken on an accusing tone. He stepped closer—close enough to see Ash's eyes for what they really were, if he looked. "Weren't you supposed to be underneath, _dismantling_ these things?"

Ash fumbled for words, silently agreeing. "I couldn't—I didn't know how—"

"Pika chu!" Before Ash could finish, Pikachu rose up in his arms angrily, his teeth bared at Mortimer. "Pikachu pika _pi_ chu, pikachu! Chu pika!"

Behind the Master, Ritchie and Mikey looked uncomfortable, while Duplica watched the exchange with a frown on her face. Pikachu continued to chastise Mortimer angrily, going on about explosives and wires and the dangers of an Electric Type going anywhere near them, but Ash doubted Morty understood a word he said. He was making a moot point, anyway; Ash should have been down there destroying all those charges, not just moving them around, regardless of the danger. It was his _duty_. He was supposed to _protect_ this place, not—not—

Not bury his head in the sand and pretend it would all go away if he just left it alone, he finished bitterly. He'd just wanted to be near Misty. That was all. He hadn't wanted any of this to happen. He thought he'd made a good choice, sticking around aboveground instead of getting himself blown to pieces underneath. Evidently he had been wrong. As usual.

Morty listened to Pikachu speak with a blank, but comprehending, look on his face. Ash hid his eyes in the shadow of his arm and tried to pull the mouse closer, but Pikachu would have none of that. He pointed his paw and Morty and called him a word that had no English translation, but which Ash recognized to be considerably insulting. Ash dropped his arm and pulled the mouse back at the same moment Ritchie aimed the flashlight at his face again, curious. Ash was forced to snap his eyes closed and bury his nose in the fur on top of Pikachu's head, breath coming hard through his nose. Damn it, if he just had his sunglasses...

"Why should he be underneath?" Mikey asked into the temporary silence. "Underneath what? The Stadium? Aren't there are ghosts down there?"

"And _Elementals_, apparently," Duplica added ominously, though her tone had a thread of sarcasm to it. "Quit shining that thing at his face, Ritchie, you're blinding him, remember?"

The light dropped. Mortimer's gaze didn't. Cast in shadow once more, Ash lifted his eyes to Mortimer's, defeated. In his arms, Pikachu squirmed irritably, but Ash didn't let him go. Morty was right. This _was_ all his fault. There was no one else he could blame.

His eyesight was a little better than a normal person's, especially in the dark, but even so, the Master's face was cloaked in shadow. Ash wasn't sure how clearly he could see. Was there gold in his eyes? Were they dark? He had no way to tell without a mirror, and the one that had been mounted above the bathroom sink was shattered, useless. For all he knew, every one of them could see.

Duplica snatched the light suddenly from Ritchie's hand, using it to light up the floor so she could approach. "Hey, you know this guy, sir?" She flashed the beam over Ash again, albeit briefly. He could feel her gaze on him even after the light disappeared.

"I do."

"From where? I've never seen him before."

"I have," Ritchie spoke up from behind her. Ash couldn't see beyond the flashlight's blinding glow, but he could hear the boy approach. Duplica aimed the beam at him.

"Oh yeah? Where?"

Ritchie shrugged. "Around. I know his Pikachu. Sparky gets along with it real well."

Surprised, Ash cast an accusing glance down at the mouse in his arms, but Pikachu only twitched an ear innocently and pretended not to notice. He refused to look up and meet Ash's eyes.

Duplica spun the light around to Mortimer instead, who squinted irritably as a dark shadow over his shoulder fled quickly from the glow. Ash shivered. He wasn't really a fan of Ghosts.

"Where do you know him from? I mean, is he a student here? What's he study?"

Morty leveled Ash with a considering look. It lasted a moment longer than Ash was comfortable with, and he found himself shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously, wondering if Morty was going to tell them what he was. But rather than rat him out, the Master turned, finally, and began picking his way toward the door.

"No, he's not a student."

Duplica followed, the light bouncing with every step. "Then what is he?"

Morty's voice remained even. "An old friend. Come, this way. Gengar has found us a path to the floor below."

The shadow that had disappeared from over his shoulder took shape suddenly in the darkness of the hallway beyond, crimson eyes materializing above a toothy white grin. Ash stared at the Pokémon blankly, feet rooted to the spot. He had fully expected Morty to give him away, not...implying...

Mikey and Duplica followed the Master out into the hall, but Ritchie stayed behind to accompany Ash. Morty shot them an expectant look over his shoulder before he disappeared through the doorway. Duplica stepped out with him, and Ash suddenly found himself alone with Ritchie, bathed in shaky darkness as the flashlight bobbed around on the other side of the broken wall.

"We'd better catch up, there are holes and soft spots in the floor everywhere," Ritchie offered. Ash could just make out the shape of his arm, reaching out for him blindly. Before he could force his body to move, to step away, Ritchie's hand found the sleeve of his shirt and tugged him gently along.

"Pikachu chu, Pikapi," Pikachu told him encouragingly, patting his arm. "Pika pika."

Although his feet felt like lead, Ash allowed Ritchie to lead him out into the hall, where the reflection of Duplica's flashlight in the destruction around them gave off just enough light to see by. As soon as he was sure the floor was stable, Ritchie turned and offered Ash his hand, but Ash, still stunned by Mortimer's words, could only stare at it in confusion.

Pikachu reached out instead, and happily shook Ritchie's hand with a pleased, "Chaaaaa." Ritchie laughed and shook back, which only encouraged the mouse, who pointed up at Ash cheerfully. "Pikachu pi Pikapi, chu."

Ritchie smiled at Ash—close, way too close. Ash instinctively ducked his head, alarm swelling up within him. At least the surprise helped to pull him from his stupor. But if Ritchie noticed anything odd, he chose not to comment.

"So you're the mysterious Pikapi, huh? Nice to finally meet you. Can I shake his hand, too?"

That last question was directed at Pikachu, who cocked his ears and clambered up onto Ash's shoulder to settle once more into his usual spot, the mouse's warm presence there doing wonders to comfort them both. Cautiously, Ash allowed Ritchie to shake his hand. It felt strange; he'd only done this once before, again at Pikachu's urging, with Misty, months and months ago. Despite his close proximity to Ash, Ritchie didn't seem to think there was anything off about him. He stepped away as amiably as he'd approached, and together the pair followed after the dimly bobbing light before it could wander away. When they drew closer, Duplica cast a glance back over her shoulder at Ash, eyes hard.

"So, does Pikapi over here have a human name?"

"His name is Ash," Morty answered for him, before he could respond. "Now hand him that flashlight before it goes out."

Duplica clutched the flashlight defensively to her chest. "No way. I don't like fumbling around in the dark."

"Miss Imite, please."

Without warning, the Gengar materialized scarce inches in front of Duplica's face. She squeaked in surprise and fumbled back to step away from the Ghost; Ritchie caught her before should could trip, and Gengar snatched the flashlight from her the moment he saw the chance.

It sputtered feebly in the Pokémon's claws. Gengar was careful to keep it pointing away from himself as he pressed it into Ash's hands, then vanished. Ash was left giving the dark shape that was Mortimer an incredulous look.

"You can't be serious."

"Just light it."

"I can't—I mean, it's not just—"

"Unless you would rather we wandered around blindly in the dark." Morty's voice was cool, steady. It always had been, even as a little boy giving directions to the ghosts who wandered too far up out of the tunnels below. Ash had never been able to tell what he was thinking, feeling—if he was even feeling anything at all.

Duplica pretended to regain her composure, though the forced sarcasm and the tremor in her voice gave her away. "What, does he have spare batteries or something?"

"Or something." She fell silent, obviously confused. Morty leveled his gaze at Ash once more. "Now is not the time for this. We need to find our way outside before the rest of the Stadium collapses. That water is rising. You know it is. I'm sure you don't need the light, but the rest of us are quite helpless without it."

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Miss Imite, please."

Even if Ash couldn't see them, he could feel everyone's eyes on him. He frowned. He had no choice in this—wouldn't even consider one, had there been. Sure, he could take off and leave them here to find their own way, and maybe they would make it—Mortimer's Gengar was certainly helpful at sniffing out dead ends, being immaterial and all. But Ash knew his way around this Stadium better even than his father had, given how much time he'd spent poking around and snooping at the students above. He could find a way out for them the moment he was oriented, he was sure. And Mortimer must have been sure too, or else why would he ask?

There was a plastic scrape, then a sproing sound as he unscrewed the back end of the flashlight and freed the coiled spring there. He pressed his fingertips to the freshly exposed metal bottom of the batteries—

—and winced, blinded when the flashlight flared suddenly to life. Morty and the students flung up their arms and cringed away in surprise. Ash cut off the current abruptly, then tried again, carefully this time, urging and pulling on the current until the voltage felt right and the light bulb was no longer on the verge of exploding. It took a moment to get right, the light dimming and strengthening under his care, much to the confusion of the students peeking at him from under their elbows. But there; the beam leveled out and he swung it up to the Gengar, who quickly disappeared amidst a smoky, curling twist of shadow.

"We're on the sixth floor," Mortimer told him. Hidden in the shadow of the light's glare, Ash was finally free to look around at his companions without fear of them catching sight of his eyes. The three students looked surprised by the strength of the light in his hand.

"Hey, how'd you get it to do that?" Mikey wanted to know. Ash couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer, so he kept the fingers pressed to the batteries carefully out of view and pretended not to hear him,,instead aiming the beam of light up and down and around their surroundings.

All right. Sixth floor. Nevermind that he had started out on the ninth—he knew where he was now, not far from Misty's room, which meant not far from the elevators. He looked at the Gengar. "That way will get us down a floor, but then it'll wind back around to the Arenas. They're not very structurally sound." He pointed the beam at a room beside him, its door ajar. Inside, the back wall had fallen in. "This way leads closer to the outside wall, which should be better. I bet I can find us a way through there."

"Pika, pikachu," Pikachu chirped up in agreement from his shoulder. He climbed down Ash's clothes to the floor and trotted off to see for himself. To Ash's surprise, he caught Morty watching the mouse with a soft smile. The Master looked up and caught Ash's eyes before he could look away, but his expression didn't change.

"We're lucky we ran into you."

Ash remained silent. Given the state of their surroundings, he wasn't sure "lucky" was the right word.

**X**

Blind, aching, and confused, Misty retched up the contents of her stomach onto the mossy ground beneath her.

Her hands clutched tightly at rich, dampened earth; it smelled of lichen and musty caves, of the outside world rather than some ancient, long-forgotten cavern hidden miles beneath the Stadium's grounds. It gave her hope, where previously she'd had none. She didn't know where she was or how she'd lived through that vortex, but if there was even a remote chance that this place was somehow connected to the outside...

Her stomach heaved again, tossing her forward miserably. It felt as if she'd swallowed the entire ocean, after being trampled beneath the hooves of a herd of Tauros and tossed unceremoniously over a steep cliff. Her head ached and throbbed, pounding with every beat of her heart, and no matter how hard she coughed, no matter how raw her throat became, she just couldn't seem to dispel all of the water from her chest.

Shivering in the cold, Misty pulled her knees beneath her and leaned forward, eyes staring blankly where the ground should be. She wrapped her hands tight around her trembling arms and squeezed uncertainly. Perhaps she was blind? Or was it really that dark? No amount of blinking or straining conjured up anything more substantial than wispy grey shapes that twisted and twined around one another in intricate little dances. She shivered again, and attempted to rub some warmth into her bare arms despite the water clinging to her skin. She was soaked through and freezing cold and trapped somewhere completely unfamiliar, and she didn't know what to do.

But the heaving eventually let up, finally, though her chest still pulled tight and painful around her lungs with every breath. Misty sniffled miserably, then wiped furiously at her forehead when the water still caught in her nose was sucked up straight behind her eyes. Mew. _Mew_. She had a gash in her shoulder that dripped warm blood down her arm and her jeans were ripped and waterlogged, and she suspected she might be turning blue in this cold. What was she going to do?

Not sit here like an idiot and let herself freeze to death, she thought wryly, that was for sure. Her thoughts turned to Ash—was he still trapped in the Stadium, or had he gotten out? Was he dead? Was he hurt? Was he coming for her? What would he do if it were him caught down here?

Again, _not_ sit here like an idiot and wait to freeze to death. Misty gritted her teeth and sighed. She was right. Ash wouldn't curl up into a little ball and wait to be rescued, let alone die of exposure; he would call out his Pokémon and escape this place, somehow. She'd been washed in here, hadn't she? That meant there was an exit somewhere.

Although her shoulder screamed in protest, Misty forced herself to extend her arms and reach out blindly in front of her. The earth was soft and cool to the touch; she imagined it to be the dark, rich soil farmers paid small fortunes for, though she wasn't sure how many nutrients and minerals were able to seep into it from within a sealed cave. Maybe if she could just find a wall, an opening— an exit that wasn't hidden beneath the water she'd washed in with...

Dirt caught in her fingernails and clung to her damp skin, but Misty didn't care. She swept her hands back and forth across the earth, crawling carefully away from the cold water that had been lapping at her waist when she'd awoken, tired and aching and disoriented and stiff. She wondered if perhaps she had a concussion. How long did it take to die of hypothermia? The heavy, waterlogged leather PokéBelt cinched tight around her waist offered her a little warmth, but all of the Pokémon inside of it were cold-blooded, scaled, or both; they could do nothing to warm her up, not even to help her light a fire.

Misty hoped to hit a wall eventually, but dreaded the thought of plunging her hands into more icy cold water. The thought of being trapped on a tiny rocky island in the middle of a lightless underground sea terrified her. What she did not expect was to thud the palm of her hand against something wet and furry and only very vaguely warm—

A body, Misty realized. She stiffened, horrified. Oh Mew, she was in here with a _body_—

—One that stirred, squeaking weakly the moment she yanked her hand away. Misty scrambled backward in a blind panic, far enough to splash back into the water she'd crawled out from. She immediately lunged back to the relatively dry earth in alarm, her heart pounding furiously somewhere high up between her ears. _Mew_, what...

It squeaked again. Misty thought she could hear a pleading tone to it, though truthfully the voice was so soft that she was only able to pick it up because of the utter stillness of her surroundings. Was it an animal? A Pokémon? Wild or tame?

Did it matter?

Carefully, cautiously, Misty inched her way back toward it. She found it much closer than she'd originally thought. Though a violent shiver rolled through her as images of all the nasty, disgusting Bugs out there flashed through her mind, she forced herself to brush a shaking hand down along the lay of its fur, until her fingers found a small, delicate paw, complete with roughened pads and sharp little claws.

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until it rushed from her in a massively relieved sigh. Not a Bug, then-nothing scary. In fact it felt...mammalian, the more she touched. She scooted closer so that she could sit and run her other hand over the entirety of its still form, judging its size, its shape...

It wasn't terribly large, though it certainly confused her. The fur was longish and smooth, but only the top coat was soaked through with water. It had four paws and...two tails? Misty felt it again to be sure. Yes, two tails, and also some rounded rubbery spines along two of its legs, and whiskers...

The creature snuffled weakly at her fingers as Misty passed them gently over its nose. Her heart melted at the soft sound it made. No animal or Pokémon she'd ever heard of looked the way this one felt—but then, new Pokémon were being discovered every day, and Ash had mentioned harboring a few he was certain she'd never studied before.

Ash...

Misty's chest tightened painfully. But there was no time to dwell on that now; she was trapped in this lightless cave with a Pokémon that, by the feel of it, was seriously injured. Misty winced when her fingers found a raw patch of skin on its scalp, and again when they pressed to the remains of a tiny tattered ear. Thick, coppery blood seeped from it, warm to the touch. Misty wiped it away on her jeans before gently, ever so gently, scooping the creature up into her arms. Its little body was light, limp; it felt broken.

"Bwee..." the creature wheezed, squirming weakly. Misty pressed it to her chest, where it could hopefully absorb some of her warmth-though admittedly she didn't have much to give. It didn't seem to mind; though initially it went stiff at the contact and squirmed to break free, once it seemed to realize that Misty was trying to help it, not harm it, its squirming transformed into more of a burrowing, small paws scrabbling for a hold in Misty's shirt as whiskers tickled her bare arms and something soft and plump and decidedly not-furry pressed to her stomach.

Misty smiled despite herself. "Hey there, little guy." Although her voice was soft, it still rasped in her throat, and the cave walls threw it around everywhere until the echoes themselves seemed to echo. The Pokémon shivered and curled up into a tight ball against her stomach, its little chin tucking into the nook between its flank and her hand. Misty cradled it tenderly, as gently as if she were holding a newborn baby. If only she had some Potions with her—if only she'd been wearing her _'Gear_—

A soft sound roused her from her wishful thinking. Misty looked up, alarmed, but if there was anything there she couldn't see it in such impenetrable darkness. Was it another Pokémon? Something else? A person? Uneasy, Misty squinted until her eyes hurt, but it was useless; her eyes saw as much open as they did closed.

When there was no other sound for several long, tense moments, Misty began to wonder if she'd imagined it. But then something began to glow. It was very soft, and it was obviously fairly far away, but without anything else around to distract her it was impossible to miss. At first it was dim, almost like a trick of the shadows—but for there to be shadows, there _had_ to be light, didn't there? And it strengthened, slowly. Gradually. It was red, a deep red, dark like fresh blood. Misty shivered uncomfortably, flooded with a sudden tide of both relief and fear. She wasn't all alone. There was something out there. In here. With her. She could see it—she could _see_, she really wasn't blind. But what was it?

Misty struggled not to go through the list of Pokémon known to be unashamedly carnivorous, as well as those suspected of it, but never observed. Failing miserably, she still took some solace in the fact that, as far as she knew, not a single one of them glowed crimson. The light was very weak, just a dim red blur amongst the darkness, almost invisible in the shadow, but it was there. It had to be. Misty swayed from side to side experimentally to be sure; the light moved too, unfixed to her vision the way the spot from an eye injury would be. It was real. She wasn't imagining anything.

It grew larger—no, she realized with a start, it drifted closer, slowly. With it came a dull ringing _clong_ sound, almost too soft to hear, but a pair of ears twitched against her bare arm and Misty knew she hadn't just imagined that, either. The sound rang softly throughout the cavern, until the rocks themselves seemed to hum gently all around her. It was as unnerving as it was beautiful. Misty wasn't sure if she should call out or hide.

Without any landmarks, it was impossible to judge how far away the glow floated to a gentle stop, and indeed the movement was so subtle that Misty didn't immediately realize that it had. It seemed to be watching her, waiting. Could it see her? Was it alive? Misty clutched tightly at the Pokémon in her arms until it wheezed again, whuffling weakly. Glancing down at it, seeing nothing, Misty hesitated. Should she attempt to follow this thing? What the hell _was_ it? Where would it take her? Was it even anything more than just a negligible light?

Well, what good would come of staying here instead?

Absolutely none, that's what. She needed to get out of this place, by any means necessary if she had to. At the rate things were going, she and her little companion would both die of hypothermia in a matter of hours. She needed dry clothes and the Pokémon needed medical attention. Whatever that glow was coming from, surely approaching it was better than waiting things out here? She didn't know how deep underground she was, or even how long she'd been lying here unconscious. It could be hours, days, even weeks before someone found her here, assuming anyone ever did.

Slowly, cautiously, Misty pushed herself up to her feet. Her thighs were cramped and her knees actually creaked with the movement, but they held beneath her weight, albeit shakily. Misty gave them a moment to receive some fresh blood before swiping her foot across the loose earth in front of her—no water, no rock. She took a shuffling step forward and did it again—and again, there was nothing. She sighed, fighting off the weary exhaustion behind her eyes. But if this was the only way out of this place...

She took another cautious step, and then another. The going was slow, but she was determined not to hurt herself any further by walking blindly out into nothingness, into the lake, into a wall. The last thing she needed right now was another bump on her head.

But for a good long while, there was nothing but dampened earth to squish beneath her shoes. Misty took her time. She didn't dare hurry until the earth began to grow packed and firm; not long afterward it gave way to solid rock, though given the way she scuffed her foot against it, this surface had not been paved. A natural cavern, then. Misty's suspicions were confirmed when her caution bumped her gently into something that rose from the ground, and a moment's careful fumbling revealed it to be what felt like a stalagmite. She wiped her hand off on her pants and tried not to think about what it looked like. Bugs didn't live down here, she reminded herself firmly. There were no cave spiders, no centipedes, nothing with long, spindly legs or wide white eyes...

In front of her, the dim red glow served as something less disgusting to focus on. It didn't seem to move, although the humming sound grew very gradually louder. And it wasn't a ringing, really—more like a light metallic tapping, sporadic, random. But the louder that sound became, the more curious Misty grew. What was it? Paired together, the light and the sound seemed to draw her closer of their own volition, with promises of help and light and hands reaching to help pull her back up to the surface. Misty's footsteps grew bolder as she found herself walking on solid ground, though the random placement of stalagmites kept her from rushing too quickly. Her chest grew tight, but with hope rather than fear. Was this the right way? Was she really going to get out?

And that's when she heard it: a soft, almost rhythmic keen, like a soothing wail. Not quite a song. Misty felt her heartstrings tugged by the sound. It was so soft, so sad, like a widow in mourning, crying out for help. And the closer she came to it, the more it seemed to blend with the gentle _clong, clong_ of metal on stone. It was a funeral sound, a somber death march, and it was leading her out of this place, out and away, back into the light...

The stalagmites and roughened rock abruptly gave way to a pile of course rubble. Tentative, Misty balanced the soggy Pokémon in the crook of one arm and carefully climbed over the pile. It was about waist-high, made of both pebbles and boulders too large for her to budge, but although her limbs ached in protest at the movement, Misty found herself stepping down the other side onto unmistakably smooth stone. She reached out and followed the pile with her fingertips until they found cleanly-cut stone, complete with four familiar grooves. A passageway. The light had led her here. It really was taking her to safety.

Tears of relief sprang to Misty's eyes as her shuffling footsteps finally gave way to an all-out jog. Ahead of her, the light bobbed and drifted further, but the wailing, the crooning, the slow, methodic ring, all of those sounds surrounded and enveloped her, pooled in her chest with a painful longing. And if she strained her ears enough, if she listened hard enough, she could swear she almost heard the sound of someone crying.

**X**

"Hey, Ash! Aren't you coming?"

The sunlight spilling in from outside was absolutely blinding. The students and Mortimer welcomed its glow; they'd scrambled on all fours through the final crawlspace the moment Pikachu had returned bearing news of the sight, then climbed the pile of crumbled stone and stood waving on its edge until the rescue teams down below had noticed them. The opening wasn't large; they were on the eighth floor now, treading on the remains of a stone Tyranitar statue that had evidently punched a hole through a weak patch in the Stadium's thick facade.

A rescue Pidgeot was on its way up now, Mikey had announced excitedly; it was being fitted with its harness. He and Duplica looked visibly relieved. Beside them, Morty peered out over the edge thoughtfully; only Ritchie had turned to look back at Ash, and had subsequently caught him trying to melt backwards into the shadows. Ash cringed. It was too bright here to lower his arm from above his face for even a split second if he didn't want to risk revealing his eyes to them. Ritchie, noticing, began to approach him.

"Hey, you okay? You look kind of pale..."

Morty caught his arm before he could get too close. Ash tried to keep his sigh of relief from becoming too obvious. "He's fine," the Master offered."Go, the Pidgeot should arrive any moment."

"But—"

Mortimer leveled his lavender eyes on the Trainee, who looked visibly unhappy, but recognized an unspoken command when he saw one. He peeked around Morty to give Ash an unhappy frown, but ultimately drew back to rejoin Mikey and Duplica, the latter of which was also casting a suspicious glance in Ash's direction. Luckily Morty stepped between them, close enough to block her view.

"Thank you, Ash. And here." He held out a Pokéball. Ash's eyes flashed from it up to his face in surprise; its occupant was the Gengar currently hiding in a patch of shadows somewhere behind him.

"What—This—"

"Take it. Gengar doesn't mind."

Instead of complying, Ash waved it away. That Ghost had been Morty's first Pokémon; they'd been together since they were children. Ash couldn't just _take_ him from the Master, even if it was only just to borrow. Morty, however, refused to give in; he stepped closer and pressed the warm 'ball into Ash's reluctant hands, either oblivious or impartial to his discomfort. Ash accepted it reluctantly, lifting his arm to peer cautiously as Morty from beneath his elbow. He didn't understand this. Ash had plenty of Pokémon on hand, as was evidenced by the handful of PokéBelts strapped to his hips and thighs, though left uncomfortably vulnerable without the usual presence of his jacket to hide them.

Mortimer only smiled lazily. His eyes caught Ash's before he could avert them, and quickly sharpened with curiosity This time, however, Ash didn't back down. Clearly Morty already knew what he was, and clearly he had decided to help him out anyway. Ash didn't understand it. He didn't understand why, when he held the Master's gaze and narrowed his eyes warily, Morty still did not look the least bit perturbed.

"Why are you doing this. I don't even know if I'll be back up or not. I don't—"

Morty silenced him with a shrug. Behind the Master, the rescue Pidgeot swooped up past the opening in the wall with an enormous whoosh of air. Morty smoothed his ruffled bangs out of his eyes and smiled. "You know, this is the first time you've let me see you. You've changed."

Inwardly, Ash's thoughts went to Misty, and his heart ached. Outwardly, he frowned, suspicious and uneasy. "How long have you...known?"

Morty shrugged. "How long have you been this way?"

Was that a trick question? Ash's glare deepened from confusion to irritation, but just as he opened his mouth to say something Morty quieted him with a soft sigh.

"You'd better get going. They're restless. They know something's happened."

Ash's irritation melted quickly back into confusion. "Who?"

"Down below."

"Who down below?"

For the first time since his initial interrogation, Morty gave Ash a disconcerting look. "You mean you don't know?"

The pair mirrored one another's blank looks until a sudden flurry of beating wings startled them both. Morty had to grab at the thick scarf wound around his neck to keep it from whipping against his face in the accompanying burst of wind, a frown pulling down at the corners of his mouth. The Pidgeot disappeared with Mikey strapped securely to its side, leaving behind Ritchie and Duplica for another trip. The latter clung to one of the stone Tyranitar's tail spikes cautiously while the former sent a curious look Ash's way, pretending—poorly—not to eavesdrop.

"I was wondering why she said you'd need Gengar," Morty mused aloud, looking thoughtful. "But I always thought you went down there to talk to him."

"Talk to _who_?" Ash didn't like the way Morty was saying these things, as if he knew something about the underground that Ash didn't. Sensing the frustration in Ash's voice, Morty leveled him with an apologetic look, his pale eyes sad.

"Your father."

Ash's breath caught in his throat with an audible rasp. His head spun, his heart beating madly—but only for a moment, just that brief instant before rational thought took over and he remembered that of course Morty probably didn't know, how could he? Ash had met him when they were both children, years after his father had passed away. He shook his head with a mixture of embarrassment and relief, feeling silly. "My dad's dead. He died before I was born."

Morty, who had been watching him with an emotionless expression in his face, now set his mouth in a grim line, although his eyes remained soft and searching as they caught and held Ash's gaze. "I know."

**X**

The infirmary had not survived the collapse. Gary didn't have to land to see that.

His Pidgeot swooped low circles around what remained of the Stadum, feathers ruffled mournfully as both bird and rider took in the extent of the damage. The entire medical wing was gone—just gone, buried beneath the crumbling stone roof and what had to be ton upon metric ton of cold, musty lake water—and still, more continued to seep up from below. It was painful to watch, and yet what could he do? He'd escaped from the Arena easily enough, but even in his mad rush to get here, he'd already been too late. The infirmary must have been one of the first areas to go; it'd been on the bottom floor near the Pokémon Center, near the Grand Arena, and its recently-renovated walls had been made of plaster and drywall, not wood or stone or steel. It was gone. Buried. Flooded. Gary couldn't see into the wreckage itself, but the way the Stadium's roof sagged deeply in the center left very little to the imagination. Anything beneath that sunken pile of rubble was unsalvageable.

And his grandfather...

Fresh tears dripped down atop Pidgeot's back, and the Pokémon keened in sorrowful agreement. Gary wiped the back of his arm across his eyes. They were not the only ones in the sky; everywhere, Flying Pokémon and machines wheeled about in slow circles, some our oc curiosity, others in a desperate search for survivors. There were many; the Stadium was a school for Trainees, afterall, and nearly everyone inside of it had Pokémon to help them out. But clearly, it was impossible for everyone to survive. And among the dead...

Guilt twisted and twined into a bundled knot in Gary's stomach. How had this happened? The underground lake wasn't _that_ large, and he'd placed those explosives to collapse the _tunnels_, not the foundations. Ash must have been moving them. Searing anger flashed through him at the thought. He'd attempted to trap the Elemental aboveground to _prevent_ the idiot from tampering with all of that firepower. Clearly he had underestimated the man—the _demon_.

Or, Ash had done this on purpose.

Gary's eyes widened as the possibility occurred to him, but even as he considered it, he doubted the weak-hearted little brat was capable of such a thing. He loved those wild Pokémon too much to kill them off, even to get back at Gary. Unless, of course, he'd managed to evacuate them first. Gary knew the Elemental had been attempting to do just that. Had he rearranged the charges to destroy the entire building out of some sick sense of revenge? As far as Ash had been aware, Gary wasn't going to set them off until after he was gone—as if he would wait that long! As if he hadn't known Ash was planning to leave! Such a suggestion was downright insulting. And what was the point of all this if he was gone?

So had he known? Had he suspected? Had he set this up on _purpose_?

It made sense to Gary. First Ash's father had crippled his grandfather, and now Ash had finished the job. Like father, like son. Gary knew they were no different. He should have gotten his grandfather out of there while he had the chance, before the Elemental could get to him, before...

Gary's thoughts trailed off as he was suddenly overtaken by a fresh wave of grief. Below him, rescue teams were scrambling to pull people out of the unstable building. Some were able to walk out on their own, and some would clearly never be walking again. When would they pull his grandfather out of there? Gary's heart twisted at the thought. Would they find Ash, too?

No, of course not. Just as quickly as Gary's chest had tightened with guilt, it hardened over again in dull, throbbing rage. No. The Elemental was far too slippery to be caught up in something like this. Clearly he'd had a hand in what had just happened. He probably knew about it long beforehand—in fact, he was probably still inside right now, no doubt going after that Waterflower girl. Gary had watched her and her friends disappear beneath the water when a pocket somewhere underground had opened up and pulled them inside, but they hadn't resurfaced when the pocket had filled and the Arena was reflooded. At the time, Gary had felt a wayward pang of guilt at their plight; now, he was glad for it. It was a lead. It was a way to find Ash, before he and his precious girlfriend slipped away forever. Oh, no. That couldn't happen now—Gary wouldn't _let_ that happen now. He would find that Elemental, and he would end this once and for all. No more games. Clearly no cage would ever be enough to contain the bastard.

The wind dried the unshed tears on his cheeks, and this time they weren't replaced by any more. His heart hurt, and his throat ached where Trovita had tried to crush it, and his chest felt like someone had poked a hole in his lung, but his stomach—his stomach was made of steel, curled thick and churning with newfound resolve. His grandfather hadn't deserved this. _No one_ had deserved this. Gary's eyes narrowed; where before he had stared blankly at the destruction, he now scoured the remaining structure for openings, pockets, anything large enough for him to squeeze through. Beneath him, Pidgeot cooed a question when Gary's fingers tightened in her feathers.

"We need to find a way back in, girl. We need to find Ash."

Immediately she banked hard, swooping low over the Stadium to give him a better look. Together the pair combed over every inch—until the shadow of an unusually rare Pokémon glided by overhead, momentarily blanketing them in shadow. Gary looked up, distracted and annoyed, but only for an instant. Grinning widely, he leaned in close over Pidgeot's back to speak softly near her ear.

"Today must be our lucky day, girl. Look up."

Pidgeot crowed and pumped her wide wings to carry them upwards, as eager as Gary to go after the Elemental who had caused so much loss and destruction in their lives. And high above them, just close enough for the sun to glint unmistakably green off of her scales, a shiny Dragonite circled slowly overhead, searching for a stable place to land.

**X**

**AN:** ...I am not even going to attempt to explain my five-year absence. Um. Shit happens?

I really thought this was winding down, guys, I swear. And I really tried to write the end! I think that's why it took so long, and I had so many false starts. This fic just isn't ready to end yet. But it will soon! I'm not dragging it on or anything, it's just...developing. Everything is definitely drawing to a close, but there will likely be at least two more chapters before the epilogue. Right now, given my past record, I'm estimating there to probably actually be like three or four. Or five. Or...whatever. But we'll see.

This one wasn't actually supposed to end here, but at upwards of 20,000 words, I decided to wrap it up. THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL NOT TAKE NEARLY AS LONG. I promise. Really, I do. This one just didn't want to go where I tried to send it, and it wasn't until I changed direction that things finally started to flow. Also I joined the Army, learned a new language, and moved to Kuwait. So there's that.

There may be a few typos, but I refuse to make you guys wait any longer just for another few proofs. I will proof this entire thing when I'm finally finished with it, so for now you'll just have to make do with it the way it is, and ignore that rather...antiquated AN in the last chapter.

I am still thinking of writing up a prequel. More and more characters to add, whee!

I wish Sandile were real. I would totally catch one here, and we would be buds.

...Can I please be forgiven for taking so long to post this? Pretty please?

The next chapter will come soon! As in, BEFORE NEXT FALL. I promise.

-PinkFalcon, over and out

**P.S. ** 's edit document feature sucks giant Wailord genitals.


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